


Written on your skin

by Trashness



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Delinquent Keith, Fluff, KEITH IS VERY AWKWARD, Light Angst, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Soulmates, brief mention of self harm, broganes, lance is a hopeless romantic, no one does it it's just mentioned, shiro just wants his brother to be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-13 22:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12993759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trashness/pseuds/Trashness
Summary: Keith is your typical troubled kid who's just trying to sort his life out. Things aren't perfect, but he's attending night school to get enough credits for university, he loves hanging out with Shiro and Matt on the weekends, and he's prepped to be the youngest member of his martial arts club to get his second Dan black belt. Things are looking up for Keith!That is until strange notes start to appear on his arm.They don't come off. At least, not when Keith tries to remove them. And they're written in handwriting that Keith knows isn't his.So where are they coming from?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I love soul mate aus. I love texting fics.
> 
> Behold the ultimate mash up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love soul mate aus. I love texting pics.
> 
> Behold the ultimate mash up!

Keith feels his eyes blink awake as he’s suddenly aware of how uncomfortably warm it is in his bedroom and how the skin of his thighs stick together. He rolls over and groans. His knees pop. He reaches for his phone to check the time.

 

11:12 am

 

He sighs feeling disappointed in himself. He used to get up and run 10km before 7am, but his night classes are now taking their toll. He tosses his phone to the side and that’s when he sees it. Written in what looks like blue pen, in fine, scratchy, writing, three words are written across the back of his left hand.

 

_Eggs_

_Milk_

_Rice_

He squints at the words. _Was I supposed to buy these?_ He thinks. They’re clearly a shopping list of some sort, a kind of reminder, but Keith has no memory of writing down the list. He also has no memory of needing any of these ingredients. He had always been a restless sleeper, perhaps he had written it in the middle of the night in a bout of sleepy inspiration?

 

Keith pays it no mind and decides to finally begin his day. He hops into the shower and relishes the feeling of shedding his layer of night sweat. He feels even better when he takes a handful of body wash and begins lathering up his body. This is when he notices the second peculiar thing about the note on his hand.

 

It doesn’t come off. Not only does it not come off, but it doesn’t fade or bleed or even smudge. The note looks exactly like a plain blue ballpoint pen, but it behaves like its tattooed onto Keith’s skin.

 

Keith rubs at the note more aggressively. His nails scratch at his skin, hoping it’ll lift up, when he pauses. His eyes narrow on the note as realization hits.

“I’m fucking lactose intolerant.” He scoffs.

 

The note haunts Keith for the rest of the day. He wishes he could let it go, but upon further investigation things just start to get odder.

 

He has no memory of writing the note. He’s lactose intolerant, so there would never be a need to buy milk, and now Keith is pretty sure that the handwriting isn’t even his. He’s sitting at the dining room table rewriting the words “eggs milk rice” over and over again, trying to compare them to the one on his hand. He supposes he could have possibly written this? Maybe if he was half asleep and his motor skills were off? But the g’s look dramatically different and the lowercase k is all wrong. He groans.

 

“Studying?” Shiro walks in and seems impressed at the image of his little brother surrounded by paper with what looks like notes on them.

“Shiro, do I sleep walk?” Keith blurts. Shiro blinks at the odd outburst. He pauses for a moment until he registers the question he has just been asked.

“Ah I mean…” He scratches the side of his cheek in thought. “Maybe? I dunno. You’ve always been a pretty light sleeper. Generally once you’re awake, you’re fully awake.”

Keith pouts and Shiro sees that this is not the answer he was looking for.

“But sleeping habits change all the time, so you never know. Like it’s common for people who maybe slept really heavy as kids to get more sensitive when they’re older.”

 

Keith nods, but the wrinkle between his brows does not go away.

 

He manages to pull his focus from his hand for the rest of the night. His night classes are tiring, but they work wonders in distracting him. Keith collapses in bed at the end of the night and doesn’t remember his hand until he’s in the shower again. He breathes a sigh of relief when he notices that it has faded. It still doesn’t smudge in the shower, but at least it looks like it will not be permanent.

 

The note is almost completely gone by evening. Only shreds of letters remain in faint blue. Keith lounges on the couch, judging Shiro as he plays his video game and his character falls off another ledge.

“You can jump on your hat remember.”

“Fuck, no, I always forget that.”

“Or you know, just get better at hitting x. That’s literally all this is.” Keith smirks. Shiro elbows him in the ribs. Keith pushes him back.

 

“Next time you die I…” But Keith can’t finish his thought. Because there, written on his hand in fresh ink, on top of the last note that has not quite completely gone away, are new words.

 

_Piano recital 6:30_

 

“Next time I what?” Shiro asks. Keith can barely hear over the pulse in his ears.

“I gotta pee.” He slurs out. His footsteps betray his panic in how quickly they rush across the floor. Shiro stares after him with concern.

 

Keith crashes into the bathroom with labored breathing. He stares at the note. His head is full of screaming questions.

_I’ve been awake this whole time, how did this happen? I didn’t write this… did I?! No! I would remember! Also I DON’T KNOW ANYONE WHO PLAYS THE PIANO!_

 

He shoves his hand underneath the tap and begins to scrub. Hard. He scrubs until his skin is raw and dry, but the blue words remain as fresh as ever. He stares at the note in defeat, his gut growing cold.

 

Keith is scared.

 

Over the next few weeks more notes appear. All of them are in that same scratchy writing. All of them impossible to remove, but seem to fade of their own accord. Most appear on his hand, but several appear on his forearm and palm. Sometimes it looks like ink stains his fingers.

 

_Remember permission slip_

_Cake pan 4 Hunk_

_Pick up Lisa_

_Get Tony’s cake_

_Uniform money_

Each note references an event or even a person that Keith does not know. He doesn’t have a uniform, and definitely no permission slips since he was expelled. Who the hell is Lisa? These words start to make Keith less afraid, but they being to feel otherworldly. Like something is trying to reach out to him. He sees glimpses into a life that is not his.

 

Children’s drawings appear on his arm. Or at least he hopes it was drawn by a child. The classic square house with a triangle roof. Several crude looking human figures. A scribble that could be a dog. These make Keith the most nervous and curious.

 

Keith rolls out of bed one morning and holds his arm above his eyes to survey what damage may have been done during the night. It’s become a habit by now. Wake up, look at arm, stare in frustration at any new notes, contemplate their meaning, wonder if he’s crazy, acceptance.

 

This morning Keith gasps. His eyes roam over his arm to see that it is completely covered. Any bare skin that was left has now been marked with fresh notes and doodles, while old notes on his hand and wrist are just beginning to fade. His entire arm is a smattering of marker and pen, and some drawings have even made their way over to his other arm. Some are just swirls, while others are flowers or what looks to be a coding language. There’s a particularly large cupcake on his bicep with the words “Hunky cakes” written underneath it.

 

Keith is horrified. He dresses in a long sleeved shirt even though it’s a particularly warm spring morning. Keith curses global warming as he tries to make himself a chilly breakfast smoothie. He goes about his day, running to the grocery store and working on some readings for his classes, whilst trying to keep his core temperature from climbing dangerously high. He wears shorts and ties his hair up, before he starfishes on the ground.

 

When Shiro comes home from a long day of running tutorials he crashes on the couch next to Keith.

“Long day?”

“They’re so stupid.” Shiro whines. It’s one of his more common phrases these days. It’s not unusual for him to burst into Keith’s room late at night, brandishing some student’s essay that he’s marking, and start screeching “What the fuck?! What the fuck?! They’re so stupid! I told them so many times…. How do they…?! How do they not swallow their tongues in their sleep?!”.

 

“Sorry,” Keith chuckles at his brother slumped next to him. “At least you don’t have any first years next semester.”

“I guess. But then I get angry at my students because they should _know better._ ”

Shiro picks himself up by leaning on Keith, but visibly grimaces when he makes contact.

 

“Ugh, bro you’re so hot.” He wipes his hand on his pants. Now that he’s close to Keith he can feel the heat coming off of him in waves. It’s making him uncomfortable, so he can’t imagine how Keith feels.

 

“Jesus, why are you wearing this shirt? You should get changed.”

“I’m fine.” Keith shrugs. Shiro had felt that Keith’s shirt was damp with sweat. Hardly fine.

“At least push up your sleeves…” Shiro touches the cuffs of Keith’s sleeve, but Keith’s hand snaps down on top of his. He snatches his arm away.

“I said I’m fine.” He snaps.

 

Shiro’s eyebrows rise in concern. Keith knows he’s fucked up now.

“Roll up your sleeves.” Shiro says. It’s not a request anymore.

“I don’t want to. I’m not hot.”

“Yes you are. Now roll up your sleeves and show me your arms.” Shiro shifts his body in a way that shows his brother that he is prepared to use force. He plants both feet firmly on the ground.

 

Keith, troubled younger brother with a history of discipline and anxiety problems understands Shiro’s concern. He knows what Shiro is thinking. Lord knows he displays the symptoms, but he can’t tell him the truth.

 

“I’m not hurting myself.” Keith replies weakly.

“Then show me.”

Keith’s mouth hardens into a scowl.

 

He holds up his hands to push back, but Shiro is too fast. His larger hand wraps easily around Keiths slender wrist, and even though Keith scratches at his hands and protests, he still feels his sleeve easily wrenched upwards. Shiro stills.

“What the…?” His eyes roam over the markings on Keith’s arms.

 

They’re confusing, but harmless. He tries to read the notes, but doesn’t seem to understand the references to people or events that have no place in Keith’s life.

“What is this?” His tone is gentle. He releases Keith’s arm with an apologetic look.

“I don’t know!” Keith snaps. The stress and fear that had been simmering underneath his surface for weeks bursts forth. He’s terrified, but there’s a weird sense of relief that someone else knows now. That maybe someone else might believe him.

 

“They just started appearing. Sometimes during the night, sometimes during the day. I can’t wash them off no matter what I do, but over time they do seem to fade.” Keith’s words are erratic.

“I don’t know who… who _any_ of these people are!” He points at a note on his elbow. This one is in different handwriting that reads _Katie was here._

Shiro pulls his arm close and inspects the notes closer. He also doesn’t recognize the names. His eyes ghost over one note that makes him gasp. It’s more faded but the words are unmistakable.

_Get Dad’s dry-cleaning._

 

“Keith… you definitely didn’t write these.” He admits.

“Yes thank you, I know that. My handwriting isn’t even the same. Believe me I’ve tested it.” With his secret out, Keith tears off his shirt in a huff. The fresh air against his sweaty body immediately makes him feel better.

“No I mean… I think someone else is writing these…” Shiro goes on. Keith continues to scowl.

 

“I think this might be your soul link, Keith.”

Keith lets out a long, shuddering sigh.

“Fuck.” He slumps forward. “I was afraid of that.”

“What? No Keith this is great! This is exciting!” Shiro grabs the smaller boy’s shoulders and shakes him. Keith flops apathetically.

“Shiro, I just…”

“Have you written anything back?” Shiro beams. At least someone is thrilled.

“God no.” Keith scoffs. He pulls himself away from Shiro’s touch. Shiro sits with a shocked expression.

 

“What?! Why not?!”

“Shiro!” Keith shouts. “You don’t understand. Like, I’ve gotten children’s drawings on here before! What if he’s old and has kids already? What if he’s…” He deflates.

“What if he’s already married?”

Shiro smirks.

“What if it’s not even a _he?_ ”

“Oh my god why would you even say that!?” Keith hisses and shoves his brother as he cackles into the couch cushions. Shiro lets him get in a couple of good hits. He deserves it.

 

…

 

Weeks pass and the notes on his arm continue to come in, but thankfully he is no longer covered. It’s back to the odd reminder on his hand, or a doodle on his wrist. Keith is thankful that he no longer has to hide them. For the first few days when Shiro would spy them he would get this know it all “You’re being unreasonable” look on his face, but now he has completely dropped it.

 

Life goes on. Keith spends his days at the gym and his nights at the community college down the road trying to build up credits. He chips away at homework and punching bags, his days passing in the quiet way they always had. Shiro teaches during the day, and when their paths cross, they play video games together or go window-shopping with Matt.

 

Matt crashes into their flat unannounced one night. He balances a box of a dozen donuts in one hand and a bag of ciders, soft drink and rum in the other. There’s a tube of pringles in the pocket of his jacket.

 

“I just handed in the first draft of my thesis and now I need to get FUUUUCKED up!” He announces.

 

Shiro and Keith stare from where they hover in the kitchen. Shiro is the first to move as he smirks. His hand reaches into the top drawer and he spins a bottle opener around on his finger.

“Right on, man.”

 

After the initial congratulations, the three fall into a familiar pattern. Matt pulls out his laptop and they crowd around the coffee table, fingers greasy with pizza, and hop from vine compilation to some niche video Matt has found.

“Look at this premium content.” Matt whispers as his fingers excitedly enter new search terms.

 

When they grow tired of what weirdness the internet has to offer, Shiro pulls out the videogames. They play mariokart (Matt yelling “dibs on waluigi”) but it’s around the time Shiro is playing _Breath of the Wild_ with Matt helping him to solve a shrine puzzle, that Keith feels himself drifting off. He shouldn’t be surprised. Night school was really starting to wreak havoc with his sleep schedule. His head hits the armrest with a heavy thud and he doesn’t move for 10 minutes.

 

“Dude, hey…” Matt whispers. Shiro hums in acknowledgement.

“Is Keith asleep?”

Shiro looks over his shoulder. Keith’s breathing is heavy and regular. His chest rises and crashes in a steady rhythm. Shiro chuckles.

“Aw poor little guy. He hit the wall.”

Matt starts to giggle gleefully to himself. He shuffles over to his back and pulls out a black marker.

“Punishment, punishment…” He chants under his breath. He uncaps the marker and gets close to Keith.

“Aw no, dude, no.” Shiro weakly protests, but he’s still laughing when Matt tip toes in close.

“He knows the rules! First one to fall asleep…” His hand hovers over Keith’s forehead.

“No! Dude, dude! Not the face! I’m serious, don’t.” Shiro hisses. Matt pouts a bit but understands.

“Ok ok, I’ll put it somewhere he can hide it.” He sighs.

 

…

 

“Morning,” Matt blearily greets Shiro as he pads to the fridge. He pulls out a gallon of orange juice and downs it straight from the bottle.

“Matt,” Shiro scowls over his coffee.

“What?” Matt wipes away his orange juice moustache. “I’m boosting your immune system. You should thank me.” He smirks.

 

He starts to prepare his toast and he and Shiro fall into a comfortable silence. The room is quiet but for the quiet tinkle of Matt’s knife occasionally hitting his plate. There’s a light breeze through the window and no one has anywhere to be for several hours.

 

“WHAT THE…?!” The silence is broken. Both Matt and Shiro begin to laugh at Keith’s distant shout.

 

It takes three seconds for him to come screeching in, brandishing his forearm in front of him. Matt’s crudely drawn dick covers most of the skin there.

“WHO THE FUCK DREW THIS?!” Keith is livid. His face is red.

Matt’s face matches, but it’s because he’s trying to keep in his laughter. He weakly raises his hand. Keith’s eyes are blazing.

 

“MATT I WILL FUCKING-!”

“Hey, Keith, bud come on. You know the rules-“ Then Shiro’s eyes go wide. He claps a hand over his mouth and guilt rises in his throat.

“OH MY GOD I FORGOT!” He cries. “Keith, I’m so sorry! I let him-!”

“YOU FORGOT???!!” Keith’s voice pitches dangerously high.

“Just go wash it off! He may not have seen it yet!” Shiro tries to find some silver lining. Keith sprints towards the bathroom.

“IT’S NOON!” He cries behind him.

 

…

 

Lance is startled awake with the blaring of his alarm clock. 6:30 am was definitely starting to feel more like 4:00 am. It’s towards the later end of the school year and each morning is becoming harder as Lance is pushed to stay up later and later by assignments. Outside his window the sky is starting to light up into a pale lilac. Lance groans and rolls onto his side. He swings his legs over his bed and rubs his face. Even in the dim light he can make out something on his arm.

 

“Great.” Lance rolls his eyes at the sight of a giant penis drawn on his skin. Being the youngest in the family definitely had its drawbacks.

 

He makes his way to the bathroom where he intercepts his older brother and the most likely culprit. He’s showered and is moving to his room with a towel around his waist.

 

“Hey Tony, thanks for the gift.” Lance holds up his forearm. The older boy sniggers and shakes his head.

“Wasn’t me bro.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Lance rolls his eyes.

 

The shower is still humid and damp when he steps in, but luckily the water takes no time to warm up. Lance starts to move through his morning ministrations, but decides to include an extra body exfoliating step. He pours his wild argan oil gel body polish onto his fingers and begins to work it into his skin, paying special attention to the graffiti on his arm. He scowls when the ink doesn’t appear to lighten.

“You kidding me?” He sighs. Tony must have busted out some mega permanent ink for this one.

 

Needless to say, Lance decides to wear his long sleeved school uniform that day.

 

…

 

By the time Lance has made it to first period he’s completely forgotten about the giant dick on his forearm. It’s warm, and despite his school’s hefty fees, they don’t seem to spend them on decent air conditioning. He instinctively rolls up his sleeves before he takes down the notes on the board.

 

“What?” Hunk’s little chuckle vibrates in the silent classroom. “What happened there?”

Lance looks at his best friend in confusion until he traces his eye-line to his arm.

“Oh! Yeah, ha. Woke up with this. Tony must have gotten me in the night.”

“Classic Tones.” Hunk shakes his head. “But you didn’t even wash it?”

“I did!” Lance replies. He drops his head when he makes pointed eye contact with their teacher.

“I did.” He repeats in a whisper. “Ok, I used my $50 body polish on this thing and it didn’t even fade! It has ingredients from Kenya!” He hisses.

 

Hunk hums and begins to examine Lance’s arm.

“That’s weird. It should at least be faded.”

“I know.”

“What kind of pen did Tony use?”

“He said it wasn’t him.” Lance pouts. Hunk nods.

“I actually believe him. This doesn’t look like Tony’s work.”

Lance pauses to glance down at his arm. He really looks at the crude art this time.

 

“Huh,” He nods. “This does lack his signature ball hairs”

“Tony’s dicks are a craft all their own. This is an insult to his talent.”

Both boys laugh. Lance starts to unroll his sleeve to cover it up again as their teacher walks beside them. He’s undoubtedly heard them laughing and is checking to see whether any work is getting done.

 

“Show me at recess.” Hunk mumbles under his breath as he begins to work through the equations.

“Show you what?”

“That it doesn’t come off. Show me that it won’t.”

“Alright, alright.”

 

…

 

“Behold! The penis of permanency!” Lance holds his arm underneath the tap and begins to scrub furiously with the prison grade soap their school has been issued. He rinses it and, sure enough, his arm is still marked as clear as day.

“Whoa, dude that’s crazy,” Hunk stares in awe. He steps forward to rub his fingers over the skin. The ink doesn’t even smudge. His mouth widens into an uncharacteristic grin.

“You know what this calls for?”

Lance’s smile sparkles with delight.

 

“Super secret science break in.” They both whisper in unison.

 

They run out of the bathroom feeling excitement rush through their veins. They take a detour to the science labs, where thankfully, they run into the third member of their heist party. Hunk scoops Pidge up into his arms without breaking his stride.

“What?! What are you doing?!” She thrashes.

“Science heist.” Hunk waggles his eyebrows.

“Ooooh.” Pidge stills. “Carry on my noble steed.”

 

They arrive in front of the science labs and Pidge’s fingers twitch with antcipation. She hammers in the pass key that she managed to break years ago and the three students slip inside. Lance waits at one of the benches. Hunk and Pidge run into the stock rooms, already shouting out what solutions and equipment they’ll need to get.

 

Hunk comes back with nail polish remover first and wipes it on to Lance’s arm. Still none of the ink lifts off. Hunk even looks at the cotton swab he used to see if it looks a bit discoloured. Nothing. Next is Pidge’s turn, who tries eucalyptus and tea tree oil, both known for removing adhesive residue. Neither removes anything here. Hunk returns with a small amount of methylated spirits. He says he wouldn’t recommend it, but they try it anyway. Nothing except a tingling sensation. Lance flops on the bench.

 

“I’m cursed.” He states.

“You might be.” Hunk laughs. Pidge pulls out a microscope and some slides.

 

“What are you gonna do with that?” Lance asks.

“See if I can figure this out on a cellular level.” She smirks. With a pair of tweezers she plucks a hair from Lance’s arm. He shrieks.

“What are you-?”

“It’s for science! Now give me a hair from your non-penised arm for comparison!”

Lance sighs but obligingly holds out his other arm. Pidge takes a hair.

 

With both hairs, she begins to place them on a slide next to each other. She carefully lays over a cover slip and slides them under the microscope.

“What are you looking for?” Hunk starts to move closer to her shoulder as she scales through the different lenses.

“Anything, but I should see… huh…”

“What?” Lance doesn’t like the sound of that noise.

“It’s just…hmmmm. Hunk you wanna look at these?” Pidge steps to the side and allows Hunk to look into the eye piece. Hunk carefully examines the two hairs side by side.

 

“Oh that’s odd.”

“What?” There’s a trace of panic in Lance’s voice now.

“Both hairs are exactly the same.”

“When you draw on someone’s arm… the ink stains the hairs on your arm as well… but there’s nothing here.” Pidge explains. “So its like… no one drew on top of your arm.”

“What are you saying?” Lance tries to grapple with what he’s hearing.

“I’m saying that maybe it’s a dick…. From _beyond!”_ Pidge dramatically whispers.

 

Hunk and Lance both shoot her a skeptical look.

“Are you sure that the ink just didn’t wash off of the hairs, but adhere stronger to my skin?” Lance proposes.

“It’s possible. But less cool.” Pidge smirks.

“It seems that…”

 

And Lance has to stop. Because in front of his very eyes, the ink starts to change. It begins to bleed and smudge. Right, left, right, left. With every swipe it fades until there is almost no evidence it was ever there.

 

“WHAAAAAAAT THE FUUUUUUUUUUU-!”

“DEMON ARM DICK!” Hunk points and shouts. He jumps three feet backwards, like he’s worried his best friend might be possessed.

“Holyshitholyshitholyshit.” Pidge gets closer to Lance’s arm and stares in disbelief at the last few swipes. She grapples for something in her skirt pocket and pulls out a blue marker. She shoves it in Lance’s hand.

“WRITE SOMETHING BACK! IT’S FOR SCIENCE!”

With trembling fingers Lance takes the marker. He tries to think of what he could possibly write. He presses it to his skin.

 

_Hello? Penis fiend?_

 

Is what his first words are.

 

…

 

Down the hall, Keith’s screeching continues. He runs back into the kitchen, dripping with water, and shoves his arm in Shiro’s face.

“LOOK! LOOK WHAT YOU HAVE DONE!”

 

Shiro and Matt both look at the fresh note on Keith’s arm.

 

_Hello? Penis fiend?_

Matt unapologetically laughs. Shiro shakes his head and smiles.

“Well, I guess you better write back now.”

 

…

 

And suddenly, in squat, red, handwriting, a word appears on Lance’s arm.

 

_Sorry_

The three friends all scream and Lance shakes his arm like it’s something disgusting he wants to shed. He runs and jumps on the spot. Pidge is holding her head in her hands and just sprinting around the room. Hunk has shoved himself in the furthest corner, seemingly waiting for Lance’s head to start spinning.

 

 _AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA_ Lance scrawls down his arm in smudgy, fearful writing.

 

_I know. I know._

_HOW IS THIS HAPPENING?_

_I think_

 

There’s a long pause before the full sentence is completed.

 

_I think we’re soul mates._

 

Lance stares down at the words. His breath leaves him in a rush.

“GUYS!”

Pidge and Hunk stop their yelling.

“Guys… I think this is my soul link.”

Pidge immediately relaxes.

“Oh yeah that’s totally it.”

“Oh yeah, of course. Why didn’t we think of that?” Hunk starts to approach his friend again. They both calmly look at the conversation on Lance’s arm, as if the previous outburst never happened.

 

 _Holy shit._ Lance replies

 

Pidge and Hunk begin to discuss the means by which these messages travel. What underlying biology must Lance and his soul mate share? Pidge excitedly thinks about the possibilities, what other uses could this ability have? Whilst Hunk wonders about the comparisons to their own technology. Could he convince Lance and his soul mate to race their writings against a text message?

 

On his arm, Lance’s note of _Holy Shit_ is circled several times in that foreign red ink.

 

 _Yup._ Comes the reply.

 

Lance is so focused on the letters coming in that he doesn’t hear the bell. He finally registers Hunk’s insistent voice.

 

“Lance! We’re gonna be late to class!”

“Shit, sorry. Uh, you go ahead. I gotta clean up.” Lance looks at his arm now completely covered in scrawl.

 

_Hey, sorry I have to go back to class now. Will write later._

_WAIT!_

Lance stops at the urgent message.

 

 _Ok_ He replies. He can be a bit late for class. Iverson can suck it.

 

_How old are you?_

  1. Lance pauses. _Almost 18._ He adds. Yeah. That’s necessary.



 

_U?_

_19_

_Oh, so older ;p_ Lance giggles to himself as he adds the winky face.

 

_Boy?_

 

This question makes Lance hesitate. He is, but he suddenly wonders why his soul mate is asking. For Lance it doesn’t really matter, but he wonders if his soul mate is looking for a confirmation or refusal. Are they that scared of what the answer might be?

 

 _Is that what you want?_ He writes back. It’s a little coy.

 

_Yes._

 

“Oh,” Lance actually says out loud. He’s caught off guard by the speed of the reply.

 

_Yeah I am._

_Cool._ Is all he gets back. Lance isn’t satisfied with that.

 

_U?_

_Boy_

_Oh_

_That ok?_

_Yeah!_ Lance writes in a hurry. He realizes his initial reaction sounds disappointed.

 

_Gay?_

_No bi. That ok?_

_Yeah. I’m gay._

_Ok_ And Lance has to laugh because he suddenly feels at a loss for words… which is a first for him. He is thankful for the second bell.

 

_Will talk later! Will sort things out. Have class now!_

_Ok. Have fun._

_PLEASE WASH ARM. TEACHER’S WILL SEE!_

_K_

Lance runs over to the sinks and begins to wash his arm. His writing bleeds away easily, but there’s a strange disconnect as his soul mate’s writing disappears at a different rate. Almost like his skin is a digital texture that has failed to properly load. It makes him dizzy to look at.

 

When the last of the foreign words have smeared off his skin, Lance looks up at his reflection in the mirror. He notices that his heart is thundering in his chest.

 

“I have a soul mate.”

 

…

 

Shiro quietly knocks on Keith’s bedroom door. He peeks in when he hears no answer. Keith sits on his bed with his head in his hands.

 

“Hey, I stopped hearing screaming so I figured things were either ok or…” Shiro starts to approach his brother and kneels in front of him. He touches his knee.

 

“He’s a 17 year old boy.” Keith sighs. The tips of his ears are pink.

 

“Aw,” Shiro chuckles. “He’s a baby.”

 

…

 

After dinner, Lance sits on his bed and stares down at his arm. The marker in his hand is shaking. He gulps.

 

_Hi._

He waits. It’s late, so the recipient could be in bed already. He has no idea what his life entails. What if he was a baking apprentice and had to wake up at 4am?

 

_Hey._

 

Lance is both relieved and nervous to have a reply so quickly. He wishes he could sleep and process all this (but who is he kidding. He would never get to sleep after all this).

 

_This is so weird._

_You get used to it._

That confuses Lance. Why does it sound like his soul mate has already adjusted? Has he experienced this before?

 

_What do you mean?_

_You write on yourself a lot. This has been happening for a while._

Lance gasps. He thinks about all the inappropriate things he may have written. All the small details about his life that he may have inadvertently shared. But mostly he’s confused why he never saw any notes back. Maybe the communication had been one way for a while?

 

_Oh man. Sorry. Did you write back?_

_No._

_Why not?_

Lance tries to not let his writing look as offended as he feels.

 

_Scared_

And now he feels like an asshole.

 

_Aw, why :(_

_Worried. You seemed to have a lot of responsibilities. There were kids drawings. Thought you might be an old man with a family._

_Oh! No! I’m sorry._

And he has to stifle a laugh. Now he understands his soul mate’s hesitation. It’s completely understandable to assume he might have a family of his own with how frequently he has to write reminders to pick his nieces and nephews up from daycare.

 

_But 17 years old right?_

_17 :) I have a big family. Lots of siblings. I take care of little nieces and nephews a lot and they like to draw on me._

_That’s nice._

Lance ponders where he will reply as the last bit of bare arm skin is covered. This means of communication is definitely not the most practical, but it fills him with a sense of excitement. It’s personal and special.

 

 _Move to leg_ He writes over the top of old messages.

 

 _K_ appears on his knee.

 

_You have a family?_

_Just 1 brother._

_Older?_

_Yeah_

_Me too. He’s an asshole._

_Mine’s good._

_He drew peen?_

_No, that was his friend._

_Funny prank. Telling him thanks for making us talk._

 

But then Lance suddenly realizes how terrifying this morning must have been. How his soul mate would have been suddenly dragged into this confrontation that he was too scared to initiate himself. Lance finds his big brother skills overtaking him.

 

_Still scared?_

_Yeah._

“I figured,” He huffs to himself.

 

_Listen, I know this is really scary and serious, but I just want you to know that there’s no pressure between us. We might be ‘soul mates’ but that doesn’t mean anything has to happen. You could have someone already and that’s fine. I’m not owed anything._

Lance sighs. Then continues.

 

_Nothing is set in stone. But I hope you don’t mind that I would like to get to know you? Maybe be friends?_

There’s a long pause and during every moment of it Lance’s pulse is stuttering.

 

_Yeah. Me too._

“Oooohhhh thank god.” Lance groans with relief and slumps forward. He takes big, calculated breaths before he reaches for his marker again.

 

_You’ll like me. I promise. I’m very charming._

_And modest apparently_

Oh? Oh, so his soul mate could be snarky? Lance sniggers and draws a cheeky winky face on his thigh.

 

 _Hobbies?_ His soul mate asks. Lance makes a delighted little noise and begins to excitedly write on his other leg.

 

_I’m on the swim team. Surf a lot. Babysit. Video games._

_Ah. Cute beach boy._

Lance adds ‘ _extremely’_ in front of the word ‘ _cute’._ He hopes it makes his new friend laugh.

 

_You?_

_Not a lot. Martial arts? Go camping a lot. Like space stuff._

_ME TOO!_ Lance replies emphatically. His hand is a blur as his writing now comes pouring out of him.

 

_I’m trying to get into astrophysics or astronomy at university._

_Wow. Must be smart._

_Not really. Just try to work really hard._

_That’s even better though._

And it’s dumb, but that honestly gives Lance the gentlest smile. He’s always been self conscious about not being smarter, so these words of praise from a stranger touch on something deep in his chest.

 

_You?_

_I’m not sure. Kind of in a weird place. Going to night school right now._

_That’s cool. It’s hard to figure stuff out._

_Sounds like you have a good plan. I’m sure you’ll get in._

_Thanks._

There’s banging on Lance’s door and he jumps on the spot.

“Lance, are you still awake?” His dad asks. Lance casts his eyes down at his untouched phone.

12:13am

 

Damn, ok. Time had really gotten away from him. He’s going to be exhausted at school tomorrow, or even worse if he doesn’t get to bed soon.

 

_Sorry I really gotta sleep. Talk tomorrow?_

_Yeah._

_Cool. Night!_

_WAIT!_

And Lance pauses.

 

_What’s you’re name?_

Lance’s fingers hover over his thigh. As much as he wants to scrawl out his name, he still has to exercise caution. He doesn’t truly know who this person is yet and his stranger danger training is screaming at him.

 

_Not telling_

_What? Why not?_

Lance laughs. He draws a little face sticking its tongue out then explains.

 

_Well I’ll admit part of me is still nervous. I don’t truly know you yet. But also because you could have a common name like James or something. And I can’t have a mini heart attack every time I meet a James and start yelling at him asking if he’s ever talked to a 17yo on his arm._

_Ah I see._

_Unless you have a crazy rare name that you can 100% guarantee I’ll never meet another of._

_I can’t._

_Me neither._

_So what do I call you then?_

A devious smirk crosses Lance’s features.

 

_Hmmm what about Mr. S for soulmate?_

_Absolutely not_

Lance scoffs

 

_Aw please? I wanna be cool and mysterious_

_Lol nah_

_Fine._ Lance admits that he is a bit disappointed. _We’ll figure something out. Gotta sleep now._

_Ok talk tomorrow?_

_Yeah. Get whiteboard markers! Easier to wash off!_

_K_

_Night!_

_Night_

_…_

Lance enters class the next day with unmarked skin and a spring in his step. There’s dark circles under his eyes, but despite this he smiles a little wider.

“What’s gotten into you?” Hunk teases when Lance slides into his seat next to him.

“What? Nothing.” Lance laughs and starts to pull out his books. Hunk doesn’t buy it. His eyes narrow and start to scan over his friend. When his gaze reaches his arm he remembers.

“Oh yeah, how did talking to the soul mate go?”

“Oh great!” Lance beams. “He’s 19, and he sounds really adventurous being into martial arts and camping. We both like space stuff, so that’s exciting and…. Why are you looking at me like that?” He stops his excited rambling as Hunk starts to wear the largest knowing grin he’s ever seen.

“That’s what’s different. You _liiike_ him.” He sings.

“I do not.” Lance scoffs. “I barely know him. He just seems nice is all. And what? I’m not allowed to be a little excited? My skin is an organic transmitter!” Lance’s dramatics earn him a long glare as their teacher finally enters the room.

 

“McClain, save the theatrics for drama club.” She starts.

“Just hyped for Shakespeare, Miss.”

“Uh huh.”

 

Lance and Hunk turn their texts to the page indicated. Hunk tries to hide his smirk.

“I’m just saying, Lance…” Hunk whispers. “I know you can get ahead of yourself”

“I’m not getting ahead of myself.” He hisses.

 

The class settles into their work and most students lose themselves in reading and highlighting the prescribed packages. Lance becomes restless after only half an hour. English has never been his strong suit and he finds it difficult to focus. Despite Hunk’s warning, he does find his mind wandering back to the previous night. What did his soul mate look like? What was he doing right now? Were they even on the same side of the world?

 

Lance takes his new blue marker and draws a tic-tac-toe board on his arm. He smiles as he places a knot in the centre.

 

…

 

Keith is blearily eating breakfast with Shiro. It’s the first time in months he’s woken up to no notes on his arms, and if he’s honest, it makes him feel oddly naked. Had he always been this pale?

 

He munches on some bland cereal that Shiro insists is good for digestion. Shiro is mercifully exhausted and has not yet put himself together mentally, so Keith hasn’t been grilled about his conversation with his soul mate just yet. Shiro sits in an uncharacteristically disheveled state, nursing a large mug of black coffee and some buttered toast.

 

Keith is mentally running over his errands for the day when he sees the lines start to appear. Four intersecting lines and then a circle in the middle.

 

“Wha…?” He murmurs around his mouthful of cereal. This attracts Shiro’s attention who now sees the tic-tac-toe board. His eyes widen just a tad and he sleepily grins.

“Well isn’t that adorable.” He laughs.

“What does he want?” Keith looks perplexed. Shiro shakes his head.

“Play with him you dork.”

“Oh… oh ok.” Keith nods. He reaches for his marker and puts a cross in the top right corner. Another circle appears.

 

The game continues until Keith draws a victorious line through three horizontal crosses.

 

“Aw you didn’t let him win?”

“Of course not.” Keith scoffs. He’s about to start a new game when his soul mate begins drawing something new. A series of dashes.

 

_ _   _ _ _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _

 

Keith is a bit perplexed. He isn’t sure if his soul mate knows morse code? Or if this might be some other game?

 

“It’s hangman.” Shiro prompts.

“Oh,” Keith breathes. “Oh ok”.

His cereal lies soggy and forgotten as he begins to guess letters.

 

_A?_

__ _ _ _ a _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __

_e?_

__ _ _ e a _ _ _   _ _ _ e __

_s?_

A vertical line appears on his arm. Ok. No s.

 

They continue to play until Keith manages to figure it out with a little laugh. His little man is still pretty safe with only the head drawn so far.

 

_I_ r e a _ _ y _ o r e __

_Can I solve?_

_Sure thing._

_I’m really bored?_

His soul mate fills in the rest of the letters, drawing colourful swirly lines and stars around the completed phrase.

 

_You did it!_

_Great! Now pay attention to your teacher._

_Aw man._

_You need good grades._

_It just sucks so much._

_Patience yields focus_

_You’re not my mom_ and his soul mate signs off with another face of someone sticking out their tongue. Keith grins.

 

Shiro stares over his cup of coffee with intense interest.

 

…

 

When Lance lies in his bed that night, with the moon light streaming in and the sound of spring crickets chirping outside, he can’t help but stare at his arms with wonder.

 

Hunk had seen straight through him.

 

Of course he had. Lance had always been a romantic and intensely invested in the idea of soul mates. While his brothers had all enjoyed movies about adventurers and murder mysteries, Lance always sided with his sisters when it came to picking what they would watch. Usually large tales about star-crossed lovers destined to be together. Of course he loved the sword fights ad the slap-stick fun, but his favorite part was always when the lovers would finally kiss. He had always loved… well love. The idea of being in it. Of there being someone else who would make him feel so complete and whole. It was difficult to keep himself in check now that he knew he had another half.

 

He swore he wouldn’t get carried away, but that eight year old inside of him still feels a rush every time his skin is marked by somebody else.

 

He takes out his marker and draws crudely on his arm. A terrible face with a sharp chin and short hair. He draws a lopsided grin and small ears that stick out.

 

_Hey babe! This is me! Draw you!_

_…_

“Haaaabveyffu,” Keith blusters in his seat. His older classmate next to him shoots him a concerned look. Keith tries to school his expression into something that resembles neutrality, but he just ends up looking constipated. Especially with his cheeks turning so red. His classmate still looks confused, but pulls his attention back to his books.

 

 _Is that what you’re calling me?_ He hopes he sounds cool and not incredibly panicked.

_Yeah._ A pause. _Is that ok?_

Keith smiles knowing his soul mate must feel embarrassed.

 

_Yeah._

_Cool :) Now draw you!_

 

Keith stares down at the drawing. It’s silly and doesn’t really tell him anything about what his soul mate looks like, except that he has short hair, but it makes him grin stupidly. Keith quickly glances up to see what their instructor is asking them to do. It’s a chapter he’s already gone through by himself. Great, he can afford to stop paying attention for a while.

 

He pulls out a watercolour pencil and licks the end.

 

…

 

Lance stares in awe as his arm is very slowly marked. Feint pink lines come through first with a light and quick touch, applying what look like guidelines. Simple shapes are sketched out, until finally, the familiar sure strokes of the red marker start to appear. Lance follows the shape of an angled jawline, sharp eyes, and a fine nose. Soft strokes make out long, feathery, hair that falls in front of his ears and along his neck.

 

He looks beautiful.

 

 _Done!_ His soul mate signs his art. It’s simple and quick, but actually gives Lance a decent impression of what his soul mate might look like.

 

 _WHOA!_ He quickly writes back. He starts to draw little stars around his soul mate’s head.

 

_So talented! Amazing!_

_Thanks :)_

_Is that really what you look like?_

_Yeah? I guess? I’m not very good at drawing photorealistic or anything. But yeah I’d say I do._

_Cute! Cute! <3 _

Lance starts to draw little love hearts next to his soul mate’s face.

 

…

 

“Hggrrrk,” Keith splutters. His classmate turns over his shoulder and shushes him. Keith sends his most menacing glare back.

 

He can’t help how his heart stutters at the little, plump, love hearts that now decorate his arm. It’s a normal reaction. He’s rarely been complimented on his looks. Throughout his life he had been called “mean looking” or accused of having “resting bitch face”. No one had ever called him “cute”… well except for Shiro, but that hardly counted.

 

Keith is stumped for words. Luckily his soul mate seems to be writing something else.

 

_Even if you do have that mullet ;p_

Keith gasps. He frowns and aggressively reaches for his marker.

 

_IT’S NOT A MULLET!_

_Is so ;p_

Keith pouts until a new drawing begins to come through. A strange and bubbly figure eight appears on his arm, with several fine spots drawn on top.

 

_This is a garlic knot! It’s my favorite food. Draw your favorite food?_

Keith scoffs.

 

_Why?_

_I like your art! Send me art! And I wanna get to know you :)_

Keith sighs. A mischievous grin slides across his features.

 

_K_

And it takes him five seconds to draw a circle and scatter some dark spots inside of it.

 

 _Cookie_ He replies.

 

_Aw, c’mon_

_Fine, fine._

He takes a bit longer this time, drawing a tall and narrow arch that pokes out of a rectangle. He draws a distinctive ‘M’ on the rectangle, before adding some rough texture to the shape that pokes out of it.

 

_Is that… a McDonald’s hash brown?_

_Yeah._

_Oh my god. Amazing. Send me art throughout the day please! But I gotta do homework now._

 

_Ah ok. Night._

_Night babe!_

Keith groans and falls forward on his desk. How dare these stupid notes on his arm make his body react like this. He isn’t prepared to have such nice words thrown at him and called sweet names. He isn’t adjusted for this at all.

 

Keith stares at the silly face of his soul mate until it fades. Washed off from the other side.

 

He doodles in his notebook what his other half might really look like until his class finishes.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith feel too many things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS!
> 
> I worked really hard to update this fic for you today! I hope you like it. It's got fluff, angst, feelings, all the good stuff!
> 
> A warning for some slight homophobia. No slurs or anything used. Just a heads up.

When Lance wakes up in the morning he checks his arms. No new messages. That’s ok. There is what looks to be a new bruise on his forearm, but that’s not unusual. Probably just from play fighting with his nephews. He’s a bit disappointed at the lack of a good morning message, but it’s understandable. He knows his soul mate has night classes, so he doubts that he would be up this early.

 

Lance stumbles to the bathroom and begins to kick off his boxers and sweat-stained singlet. He finally turns on the light and drowsily steps into the shower. His hands move on muscle memory and, despite the many steps involved in his routine, it only takes him ten minutes.

 

Lance exits the shower finally feeling refreshed and awake. He approaches the mirror ready to put the finishing touches on his morning routine.

 

He balks at his own reflection.

 

Because the body that he sees looks horribly battered and beaten. Lance feels fine, but the large bruises that blossom across his dark skin tell a different story. They pepper his arms and thighs, and march across his chest. There’s a particularly dark one on his ribcage, and a matching one on his hip. Lance stares horrified.

 

“Holy shit,” He gasps. He curiously presses his fingers into the bruises and is shocked when they do not hurt.

 

They’re not _his_ bruises.

 

…

 

Kaith whines when he rolls out of bed. His joints creek and ache and a violent pain thrashes through his ribs. He checks his arms. No messages. A bit odd, surely his soul mate was at school and bored by now? With shaky legs, Keith stumbles to the bathroom.

 

“Fuck,” He gasps when he sees himself.

 

Sure, his bruises look horrific, but that’s not what makes his gut freeze. He assumed that he had no messages from his soul mate, but oh the other boy has clearly seen.

 

His blue marker circles the worst of the bruises on his torso and each one in punctuated with an angry word.

 

_WHAT_

_THE_

_FUCK?_

Keith stares at the message left across his chest.

 

“Hey I keep telling you to stop trying to shave. You just…” Shiro pokes his head in and winces at Keith’s back.

“You look like shit.”

“My soul mate clearly thinks so too.” Keith turns and Shiro’s eyes widen at the brutal words marking his chest.

“Oh, damn.” He whispers. “I didn’t think bruises would transfer.”

Keith hangs his head.

 

“Me neither.”

 

…

 

“Pass me the butter.”

“Coming up,” Lance scoops out a cup of butter and hands it to Hunk who begins to mix it into their cookie dough. Home economics is a blessing to have in the morning as it means that Lance gets to enjoy whatever he and Hunk cook together when he goes to lunch. Hunk’s strong arms mix the dough until all the ingredients are even and they begin to stick to the bowl. He flips it upside down onto their small counter and the dough plops out in a gooey ball.

 

“You wanna start portioning it out?”

“You know it.” Lance eagerly rolls up his sleeves and begins to grab small handfuls of dough, rolling them into balls before placing them on the cooking tray. Hunk rinses the mixing bowl before he joins in. He’s a bit faster, but Lance is an accomplished cooking partner.

 

“Holy shit, you ok?” Hunk spies the bruises that mark Lance’s arms and knuckles. It looks like there may be some scrapes along his knuckles as well.

 

“Oh, yeah.” Lance chuckles humourlessly. “I think they’re my SMs”

“Sm?”

“Soul mate’s.”

“Ah.” Hunk nods. They finish balling the rest of the dough and place the tray in the oven. Hunk lets Lance sneakily lick the spoon as he starts to wash up.

“Do they hurt?” He asks.

“Nah. It’s weird. They look awful, but I don’t feel anything.” He smirks. “Honestly you should see me with my shirt off.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Aw, why don’t you wanna see me naked, papa bear?” Lance flirtatiously strokes Hunk’s shoulder.

“Lance, stoooop.” Hunk warns. “This is why I have to tell people we’re not dating all the time.”

“Are you _ashamed_ of me?” Lance dramatically pouts. Hunk just glares at him.

 

“No I just…”

 

_I’m sorry! Martial arts remember?_

Lance stops at the fresh note on his arm.

 

_I’m sorry. I went to train late last night after class. Are you ok?_

Lance sighs. So his soul mate wasn’t badly injured.

 

_Yeah I’m ok. They don’t hurt. Are you ok?_

_Yeah. I’m used it. I didn’t mean to scare you._

_Not scared, just worried._

_Don’t worry about me._

…

 

Keith waits for his soul mate’s reply, but it never comes. He understands that he must be in class, but as minutes turn into hours his anxiety starts to climb.

 

Had his reply been too curt? Did he do something wrong?

 

He rides his motorcycle to the gym, taking the scenic route hoping that it will distract him. The wind rushing through his jacket does little to help. He does manage to lose track of time when he begins to work on the punching bag and step through some of his routines, but his fears come rushing back when he steps into the shower. It becomes frightening when his messages wash away and he notices that his soul mate’s are already gone. The blank canvas of his arm feels like a void.

 

Keith towels off and pulls out his marker.

 

_I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole. I’m just not used to people worrying about me. I’m fine, but thank you for being concerned._

The ink smears as Keith pulls his shirt on. He rides his bike home and when he pulls off his jacket there’s a flicker of hope in his chest. He looks down at his arm eagerly.

 

The only handwriting that he sees is his own. He sighs. His soul mate had asked for art right? Maybe some art would prompt him to start talking again.

 

Keith draws very quickly a silly picture of his face. His mouth is a comically exaggerated frown and he draws a single tear.

 

_This is me being very sorry and sad that you’ve stopped talking to me._

He groans. This is embarrassing. Why is he so hung up on this?

 

He moves to the kitchen and raids the fridge. He pulls out bread, lunch-meat, and salad and cobbles together a lopsided sandwich. He boils some water for some instant ramen as well. It’s a decent lunch, and Keith enjoys his time lounging on the couch eating and scrolling through his phone. He watches several videos Matt has sent to him. Some are funny, whilst others are just… odd. Matt had an acquired taste in the content he consumed. Shiro seemed to “get it” more than Keith did, but Matt still sent him stuff regardless.

 

Keith is flicking through a blog filled with weapon concept art when he catches sight of his arm again. His own handwriting appears to mock him.

 

_Are you mad?_

He bravely writes.

 

_Soul mate?_

…

 

He falls asleep there on the couch. Shiro comes home and the sound of the front door opening causes Keith to stir. It must be past 4:00pm then. His spine is screaming at him, and when he rolls onto his side he hisses as pressure hits the bruise on his ribs. He shakily lifts himself up, then almost collapses again when he spies new writing on his arm.

 

_Oh my god I got sent to detention for being covered in writing! I’M SORRY!_

“Shit!” Keith clambers for his marker.

 

_I got you in trouble?!_

Letters appear instantly. All the stress building in Keith’s gut over the day begins to instantly fade. It annoys him how much better he feels upon seeing that foreign handwriting.

 

_It’s ok. This one teacher has it in for me anyway._

_I’m so sorry!_

_No don’t be!_

Keith smiles. It sucks that his soul mate got in trouble, but relief floods through him as it’s clear his soul mate was never upset with him. No harm has been done to their fragile friendship.

 

_And hey about before…_

A new message comes in. Keith swallows.

 

_You are worthy of being worried about. Just so you know._

Keith softly smiles.

 

_Thanks. You too. I mean you seem like you have everything together, but I was just worried when you didn’t reply._

_Aww, miss me?_

Keith flushes. Even though he’s never seen his soul mate’s face or heard his voice, he imagines the cocky smirk he might wear. Keith shakes his head, but reaches for his marker anyway.

 

_Ahhhh…. Yeah._

_Aw babe! I missed you too!_

_Jeez_

_Are you embarrassed?_

_Yeah._

_I’ll just have to compliment you more so you get used to it then!_

_Oh boy._ Keith says out loud as he writes it. He’s still a bit wary, but he feels the pull to keep writing.

 

_You are nice and I like talking to you! I’m sure you’re a great martial artist and you’re crazy good at drawing :)_

Keith laughs and rubs his face. His cheeks feel warm.

 

_Haha thanks. I like talking to you too._

 

_Not sick of me?_

_Nah. I’m sorry we can’t talk while you’re at school anymore._

_We’ll find a way._

 

And Keith receives a drawing of a suspicious looking character. He thinks it’s supposed to look like a spy? It makes him giggle.

 

…

 

The two boys continue to talk even as Keith goes to his night classes. By the time he leaves, there’s a damp rag next to him on the couch that he periodically uses to wipe down his arm to make room for new messages. He arrives at his class and laughs when he removes his leather jacket to see several doodles of cookies.

 

_I’m eating the rest of the cookies my friend and I made in home economics today and I am liiiiviing. I think you’d love them_

_How can you be so sure?_

_My best friend is the most bomb-ass cook. If you don’t like his cooking it’s because you’re fucking dead._

_Sounds talented._

Keith opens up his English notebook and begins to loosely structure an essay he has to complete in a week. Something about the unreliable narrator and themes of George Orwell’s _1984_ , but Keith barely manages to come up with a topic sentence. He suddenly wonders if he can change his chosen text. Maybe something by Jane Austen? His mood has been lighter lately, so it’s become a struggle to drudge through Orwell’s grim view of the future.

 

But this is likely a decision for another night. He’s far too distracted to tackle this now.

 

_So martial arts? Judging by your bruises it looked like you got your ass handed to you._

_I’m actually very good._

_How good?_

_Good enough that the only people who spar with me anymore are my instructor and older brother._

_Ah, because you’re so shit?_

_Because I’m so lethal._ Keith draws a picture of a knife and an angry face. He receives a laughing face back.

 

_Ok I believe you._

_I’ve dabbled in kendo. I want to do more of it, but it’s not my instructor’s area._

_What’s kendo?_

_Sword fighting_

_OH COOL! Like with katanas?_

_Like with a wooden stick._

_Laaaaaame._

Keith drowsily listens as his instructor drones on about how to structure a good introduction and conclusion. Keith takes a photo of the board so he can get back to talking with his soul mate.

 

_So you swim?_

_I do._

_What’s your best stroke?_

_All of them. I’m a natural._

_There’s that cockiness again._

_Hey!_

Keith chooses this moment to laugh, which is terrible timing because another student may have been talking about her chosen text _The Diary of Anne Frank._ The other students glare at Keith with distaste.

“Sorry,” He sheepishly apologises. “Uh, saw something on my phone.”

“You shouldn’t be on your phone, Keith. We’ve discussed this rule before.” His teacher reprimands.

“Sorry, sorry.” Keith makes it obvious that he’s putting his phone away in his bag.

 

_Ah I guess in seriousness I would say that my best strokes are butterfly and freestyle. Backstroke is my weakest._

_Why’s that?_

_I’m pretty skinny so I’m not the best at floating. But I move very quickly._

_Ah ok. Any other sports you do?_

_I used to be a gymnast._

And with that Keith has to drop his marker and steal himself. He closes his eyes and places his hands together as if in prayer. He takes deep breaths. _Lord, give me the strength_ He thinks. Once he’s calmed down he picks up his marker again.

 

_A gymnast?_

_Yeah! I was pretty good at it too! But we moved and I couldn’t find another good club. You know how it is._

_What kind of gymnastics did you do?_

_Uh lots of stuff. I guess I was best at rings and bar. But by the end I was actually getting into more circus stuff like trapeze and aerial ribbon stuff._

Keith almost falls out of his chair. He knows this boy is just 17, but he cant help but imagine an incredibly lean and muscled body twirling around expertly in the air.

 

_That is… so fucking cool._

_Really? I always thought it was lame. The other boys at school all played soccer and I was playing with ribbons and wearing tights._

_No it’s super cool. I did always want to play soccer or football or something though._

_Ugh pointless running and sweating. Why would you want that?_

_I wanted to make friends._

And Keith stares down at what he’s just written. He hadn’t even second guessed it. The words had just vomited out of him, and by the time he realized what he had said… there they were. That is of course the reason, but he didn’t want to admit it so transparently! Keith had always had a terrible time making friends and he had hoped that team sports might have been a good place to make some. He was good at sports, so he hoped that might make other boys like him. But the opportunity never came up. And he had never admitted to anyone how lonely he was.

 

Until now. When Keith talks to his soul mate he feels safe. Like he can tell him anything. It’s exhilarating and frightening.

 

_Sorry. That probably sounds pathetic and desperate._

_No! No not at all! I want you to tell me things._

Jeez. If Keith’s heart could stop pounding that would be great.

 

_Making friends has always been difficult for me so yeah… I thought soccer might be a good thing for me. I was always the youngest at my martial arts club. I was good, so I was always put with kids much older than me._

_Aw :) well I’m sure they were really impressed with you_

_Thanks. I doubt it, but thanks_

_And hey, I know it might not mean a lot, but I do think of you as my friend. So I hope you count me as one of yours_

_I do. Thanks_

_I’m glad. I’m pretty exhausted so I think I need to sleep now though. Sorry._

_No, it’s ok._

_Night babe_

_Night soul mate_

…

 

Lance sits on the bench outside, barely touching his lovingly packed lunch. He takes small bites of his sandwich and nibbles the straw in his carton of iced coffee. He shifts his weight and pulls his legs up onto the seat, then down again. Hunk dozes on the grass at his feet whilst Pidge reads a book next to him. Lance nudges her again as he pulls out his phone.

 

“God, what’s with you?” She sighs.

“How do you mean?”

“You’ve been antsy and weird all lunch. Like you’re stressed or something.”

“I’m not stressed. Lance McClain does not get stressed.” Lance melts into a wide seated position with his arms outstretched on the backrest of the bench.

 

“Oh, so that’s why you called me crying at 2am during finals week.” Hunk teases. His eyes are still closed. Lance lightly kicks him.

“Shut it, you.”

Hunk laughs.

 

“But seriously, you’ve been weird all day. You didn’t read a thing in English.”

“Do I ever?”

“Fair point, but then you were weirdly distracted in drama. And that’s like… what you look forward to all week.”

“I do live for drama.” Lance sighs with a grin. Hunk and Pidge both roll their eyes.

“I’m just tired. I don’t know. Can’t I just be a vacant teenage boy for a day?”

“Yeah but…” Pidge starts. She then stops. And a wide smile stretches across her face.

“Oh ho… wait a second…” She elbows Hunk and points at Lance’s arms.

“They’re _clean._ ” She sneers. Hunks eyes widen.

“YOU’RE ANTSY BECAUSE YOU CAN’T MESSAGE YOUR BOYFRIEND!” He declares. The pair roll over with uproarious laughter. Lance turns beet red.

“He’s…” He blusters. “He’s not my boyfriend!” He cries.

“Whatever,” Pidge wipes tears from her eyes. “The point is that you can’t talk to him and you’re _desperately_ pining after him.” She swoons and bats her lashes.

“Shut up,” Lance pushes her with his foot. “It’s just weird! Like you talk to someone constantly and now I’m not allowed to. So I don’t know what to do with my time.”

“You could try actually doing some schoolwork.” Hunk smirks.

“God, Hunk. I’m good, but I’m not a miracle worker!” Lance throws up his hands in exasperation. There’s a small smile on his lips.

 

…

 

But despite his protests, Lance knows that his friends are right. By the time he sits in math class, his fingers are just itching to grab his pen and write on his arm. He wishes his soul mate was also in school, but because he knows he’s usually available during the day… it just makes it so much worse. What’s he doing? Is he having a good day? How was his class last night? Lance hates how their communication has been suddenly cancelled. Three o’clock can’t come soon enough.

 

Lance is just about to admit defeat when he places his forehead on the table. He groans and scratches his thigh. The itch is particularly high on his leg, so he has to lift up his shorts to really get a satisfying scratch.

 

Wait…

 

Lance sits up and looks at his thigh. Under the table. His legs are long and his shorts reach to just above his knees… covering a good amount of skin.

 

Lance reaches for his marker and yanks up the fabric. He scrawls on his thigh excitedly.

 

_Babe? Babe? Do you wear shorts? Please wear shorts from now on so I can talk to you in secret._

 

“You call him ‘babe’?” Hunk curiously watches Lance’s sudden burst of energy.

“Of course?” Lance shrugs.

 

…

 

Keith sighs as he walks into his bedroom after getting home from class. He’s a bit surprised that he and his soul mate have not talked at all today, but he knows that they can’t talk during school hours now, and he probably just got busy afterwards. Keith is pleased at how much calmer he is about the silence, even though he does miss the idle conversation. But he’s comfortable in knowing that he hasn’t done anything wrong, and they will probably find time to talk tomorrow.

 

Keith throws off his shirt and has pulled down his jeans when he sees the message. He snorts and shakes his head.

 

 _I don’t even own shorts._ He replies. Thinking his soul mate has already gone to bed, he’s surprised when a reply comes in quickly.

 

_What? Holy shit go get some shorts. They’re great! And I bet you have sexy legs_

 

A drawing of a suggestive face follows the message.

“God,” Keith laughs.

 

_I dunno. They’re fine. If you swim you probably have nicer legs than me._

_I have exquisite legs thank you for asking_

_There’s that modesty again._

Keith worries that maybe he’s insulted his soul mate when lines slowly begin to appear. It’s a drawing, but it’s not until two minutes have passed that Keith has some idea of what it’s supposed to be.

 

It looks to be a man. With comically big pectorals and biceps, as well as a mess of long, dark, hair. There are stars coming off of his nipples.

 

 _This is what I think you look like_ comes the accompanying message. Keith has to press his pillow to his face to keep from laughing too loudly and waking Shiro. He keeps looking at the drawing’s giant muscles and terrible hair and it just sets him off again.

 

_Not even close._

 

_I’ve used all the clues you’ve given me. I’m sure I’m close. It’s just my lack of artistic talent that’s holding me back._

_Yeah I’m sure that’s it_

In the spirit of the evening, Keith begins to draw what he thinks his soul mate looks like, or at least, an exaggerated version. He draws a tall boy with a broad chest, narrow waist and long limbs. He gives him short hair, but dresses him in a snap back, muscle shirt with a deep, plunging neck-line and arm holes, and board shorts. He also wears dark sunglasses, but no shoes. Keith draws a little speech bubble to it that reads “Kawabunga dudes. The beach is my life yo.”

 

_This is what I think you look like._

There’s a long pause.

 

_It hurts me so much that that isn’t far off_

_REALLY?_

_I think I have that exact outfit_

_OH MY GOD_

_I’m so sorry to disappoint you._

_I’m not disappointed. Even if you do potentially look like a guy that would have bullied me in high school._

_I WOULD NEVER! And I look nice. I promise. I have gentle eyes and a lovely smile._

_Draw them_

Keith receives a drawing of two dots and just a curved line for a smile.

 

_Beautiful. It really captures your essence._

_Thank you I really used all my talents._

 

Keith laughs then looks at the time.

 

_Are you doing homework right now?_

_No_

_Should you be?_

_Uh…_

_Do it._

_But I wanna talk to you more!_

_Stop using me to procrastinate_

_Never babe_

_Doooooo iiiiitttt_

_Ugh fine fine. Night babe!_

_Night._

…

 

_Is this hidden enough?_

_Babe!_

Lance’s chest flutters in excitement at the sight of the words on his thigh, just hidden by the hem of his shorts.

 

_You bought shorts?_

_Nah. I’m just laying around in my underwear_

_Ooooh bet that’s a sight._

_Not really._

_I mean you could always draw yourself like one of your French girls…_

_…What?_

_Titanic?_

_Huh?_

Lance stares in disbelief.

 

_Never mind._

The two boys continue to talk throughout the day, and at every break Lance has to wash his legs to give himself a clean slate where he won’t get in trouble. After reprimanding from Hunk, Lance does actually try to do his class work, but in between exercises he continues to play games of tic tac toe and hangman.

 

_I’m not just a surfer dude bro you know_

_No?_

_No! Remember I said I also loved gymnastics, and I read comic books too._

_Do you have a favorite superhero?_

_I like Miles Morales’ Spiderman a lot._

_Cool. Anyone else?_

_Uh… Blue Beetle?_

_I dunno who that is but ok._

Lance waits patiently and is rewarded with several drawings of aforementioned superheroes on his thighs. In one, Spiderman is straddling a pommel horse with the caption “Is this what you looked like when you did your gymnastics?”. There are also several drawings of the same surfer bro, that Lance now knows is supposed to represent him, swinging on a trapeze or in the Black Beetle outfit. Lance gushes over every one and does his best to draw his soul mate doing cool karate chops and kicks. They’re all… pretty terrible, but his soul mate always replies with smiley faces and stars around the drawings.

 

_I honestly love all these drawings so much. My cheeks hurt from smiling._

_Me too. I haven’t laughed this much in a while._

_My friend keeps glaring at me as I’m giggling._

_Ah sorry I don’t wanna get you in trouble._

_I showed him and he particularly likes the drawing of me in my underwear taking selfies._

 

_Why that one?_

_“Oh my god I’ve caught you doing that” were his words_

_HOLY SHIT. AMAZING_

_Do I seem that vapid?_

_No of course not. I’m just kidding around._

They keep writing even as Lance sits in the front seat of Hunk’s car and gets driven home. He moves the messaging onto his arms as they leave school premises.

 

…

 

_So if you read comics do you also play video games?_

_Am I fucking with your impression of me? Are you putting nerd glasses on my surfer dude persona as we speak?_

_No no just answer the question._

Keith laughs. He sits at the dining room table as Shiro prepares dinner behind him. Keith had said he would help… but the carrots he was supposed to peel lay forgotten.

 

_Yeah I play a lot of video games._

_Like what?_

_Well my parents only ever let us have Nintendo consoles for a long time. So I grew up with a lot of Mario, Zelda, fighting with my siblings over Mario kart. Kirby and stuff._

_Anything else?_

_Well yeah like now I’ve played other things. I like story driven games with good characters and stuff._

_Oh cool!_

_What about you?_

_Uh… a lot of jrpgs. I also think I own every fighting game ever made._

_Oh really?_

_I am a mortal combat wizard._

_Maybe so, but I bet I could beat you at super smash bros._

_Don’t just say things you have no evidence for_

_I mean I have plenty of evidence. My brother’s tears are my evidence._

_Doesn’t seem very strong. I mean I beat my brother too._

_How many siblings you have?_

_1_

_I have 4. 5 Kids total and I’m the youngest and best. All of their talents have been distilled into me, the superior human._

_I’m sure they’re very proud. Buuut my brother is a remarkable human. Maybe he’s better than all 4 of your siblings put together? Which would make me even better than you?_

_God I can’t believe the blasphemy that’s appearing on my body. How dare you sir._

_I could probably beat you in Soul Calibur._

_Oh I bet you could. I’ve never played it, so yeah that’s fair._

_Are you and your family close?_

_Oh yeah! It feels like there’s a million of us sometimes so it can get claustrophobic, but I really love them all._

_Draw them!_

_Ohhhhh my god. Hang on._

And Keith smiles down as his leg is completely filled with an immense stick figure family. His eyes widen as the family stretches across his entire thigh. He had expected seven figures, but more appear. Seven, then nine, then 12. 15 in total. His soul mate uses different colours to try and differentiate between the characters. There appears to be three elderly people, nine adults or teenagers, and three children.

 

 _Holy shit_ Keith replies when it’s clear that the drawing is finished.

 

_I said I had a big family!_

_I just didn’t expect all this. Why kids? You said you were the youngest?_

_I am! So I have 4 siblings. My oldest brother and sister are married and have children. So those are my nieces and nephews. I am their favorite uncle._

_Haha I bet. And the older people?_

_Those are my grandparents! And my uncle. My dad’s brother._

_Oh nice! Wow this is really something. And you all live together?_

_No no haha. So right now in my house it’s me, my brother and sister, and my uncle. But my older siblings often visit with their families and my grandparents are there a lot too. We all live in the same state._

_Wow. That sounds really cool._

_You should draw your bro for me!_

_Oh. Ok. I guess._

_Is that ok?_

_Yeah he’s just hard to do justice haha._

Keith starts to sketch on his clean thigh. He’s now got a pretty good system where he starts with a water-colour pencil to lay down a skeleton, then builds on it. He only does his lines with marker when he’s sure everything looks right. If he makes a mistake with the pencil he wipes it clean with a washcloth.

 

He just draws Shiro’s face, trying to get his smile and awkward hair cut right. He colours in his dark hair except for the few prematurely grey hairs in his fringe. He tries to keep his hand steady as he draws a fine line across his nose for his scar.

 

_That’s my bro_

_WHOA!_

_What?_

_He’s hot! Haha_

_Oi_

_Aw nah don’t worry you’re still the hottest and prettiest <3 no need to be jealous babe. _

_I’m not jealous._

A plate of food is placed in front of Keith and it makes him jump.

“Thanks for helping,” Shiro looks down and smirks. Keith sheepishly shrinks into himself.

“I’m sorry, I got…”

“Distracted?”

“Yeah.” Keith chews on his bottom lip. “I’ll do the dishes.”

“Damn right you will.” Shiro chuckles. He points down at Keith’s leg.

“Is that me?” He asks. Keith rolls down his pant leg in embarrassment.

“Uh yeah. He uh… asked what you looked like and stuff.” He starts to pick at his food. Shiro sits across from him.

“It looks good.” He says around a mouthful of chicken. “I’m impressed.”

“He was too.”

“In your art or in me?” Shiro laughs.

“Both.” Keith pouts. Shiro laughs.

“Could you just stop being so good looking? It makes it very hard to pick up guys.” Keith groans. Shiro laughs harder.

“Aw Keith. You’re beautiful! You’re definitely cuter than me.” He cups Keith’s cheek and smooshes his baby fat. Keith scoffs and pulls away. He stabs his chicken with purpose.

“I just feel like Shiro-lite sometimes. Like ‘aw you guys love shiro! Well here’s the travel sized edition that has less muscles and devoid of the jawline of a Greek god’”

Shiro chuckles and smiles around his food.

“No one thinks that.”

“They do.”

“Well your soul mate doesn’t.”

“How do you…?”

But Shiro just points at Keith’s arm. On it, many love hearts begin to appear, along with the words:

 

_You’re beautiful!_

_Babe you’re by far the prettiest!_

_You’re super hot and if I ever met you I’d be way too nervous to talk._

“Jeez,” Keith blushes up to his ears.

“You better write him back. He sounds stressed.”

“Ok.” Keith doesn’t have to be told twice.

 

…

 

_Tell me about your family_

This has been occurring fairly regularly since Lance first discussed his family. Now at random points throughout the day his soul mate will prompt him to talk about his family. Lance discusses everything from falling out of treehouses to bathroom etiquettes and dynamics. He worries that he’s boring his soul mate, but he always gets asked to keep going and smiley faces appear throughout his rambles.

 

_Tell me about your family some more_

This late night conversation starts in the same way. Lance sighs and sinks deeper into his mattress. He holds his arm up in front of his face and begins to write.

 

_I have a chocolate lab called Lola. She’s old now, but when we first got her my brother and I would use her as an excuse to go to the beach. I remember we’d have to try and hose her down before she got in the car or else she’d get sand everywhere._

_Is she a good dog?_

_The best! I like to think I’m her favorite, but I think she just really loves everyone._

_Does your family go to the beach a lot?_

_Oh yeah we used to go like every weekend. I used to live on the beach basically, but now my family has moved and we’re more inland now. But we still try to go every holiday._

Lance smiles as the fond memories come flooding back

 

_I don’t really get sunburnt very easily. I usually just tan, but there was one summer where my siblings and I all got horribly sunburnt. We felt like gross snakes shedding their skins. We would sit in a line on the ground and rub aloe vera on each other. Like some weird cult grooming exercise._

_Haha sounds like a good bonding experience._

_It was. I think our parents took photos of it because they’re narcissists._

_Do your parents like the beach too?_

_Oh yeah. My dad would fall asleep sometimes and my mom would round us all up to try and bury him as much as we could before he woke up._

_Oh my god! Murder. Sounds like your mom was after his life insurance._

_Haha nah my mom just loves to play around. She is also a pro at making sandcastles. My dad is a wizard at making fires and he always cooks something on the coals for us to eat. Often seafood of some sort. He also always buys us all ice cream._

_That sounds really nice._

_It’s usually the 50c soft serve cones, but on a hot day they taste fantastic._

_I’m sure they do. It sounds like you’ve had a really amazing childhood._

Lance reads the message. Even though it’s complimentary, he can’t help but feel like there’s some sadness being transmitted across his skin. He wonders again why his soul mate is so content to listen to him discuss old family memories.

 

…

 

_What’s your mother like?_

Lance is halfway through his nightly routine when the message comes in. He’s finished off all the messages from the day and is just preparing to cleanse his face when the new conversation starter comes in. Lance sighs. Looks like he’ll have ink on his body throughout the night again. At least he can still take care of his face.

 

_My mom?_

_Yeah._

_She’s really amazing. She’s a stay at home mom, but with all of us that really is a full time job. She attends every one of my swim meets, as well as every little league, ballet recital or school musical that any of us has ever been in._

_What’s her personality like?_

Lance is puzzled. It’s an odd question. But he goes on.

 

_She’s fearless. Or rather, terrifyingly persistent and stubborn. She’s both the kindest and scariest person I know._

_Scary?_

_Not to me! But this one time, this teacher was being really awful to my sister telling her that she wouldn’t ever make it into the university course she wanted because she wasn’t “the academic sort”… my mom almost murdered her then and there. She yelled at her and got in her face, pointing her finger and everything. All the other parents stopped to watch and the principal had to come over._

_Whoa! Did your mom get in trouble?_

_Nah, but that teacher got fired._

_Holy shit!_

_Also my sister is a physical therapist now, thank you very much._

_Showed them!_

_You bet! And like my mom is always so proud of us no matter what. Like I know my grades aren’t the best but I’m working really hard and slowly improving, and my mom is really so supportive of that. Every time I go up a grade she acts like I’m Einstein._

_She sounds like the best. I can almost picture her._

_I would draw her, but I could never do her justice._

Lance finishes his moisturizing and walks back to his bedroom. He feels that subtext of sadness everywhere tonight and it’s starting to gnaw away at him. He chews on the end of his marker.

 

_Babe?_

_Yeah?_

_Why are you asking me about my mom?_

The reply takes just a bit longer than it should.

 

_Curious._

One word replies. Never a good sign.

 

_You ask me about my family a lot._

_I don’t want you to pity me_

_?_

Alarms are blaring in Lance’s head. Pity? What was happening in his soul mate’s life? Was his family that terrible? Did he suffer from a terrible childhood? Lance’s gut wrenches with worry.

 

_Babe? Please tell me. I won’t pity you I promise._

Several harrowing seconds pass.

 

_I don’t have a mom._

Lance’s breath leaves him in a rush. He hadn’t realized he was holding it. Despite promising not to pity his soul mate, he can’t help the wave of sympathy that washes over him. He tenderly holds his arm like it’s not his own.

 

_I’ve never had one. Not really. And I can barely remember my dad. Like I can see his face, but I can’t remember anything we did together. What he did for work. Any of that stuff. When I said that I had a brother I meant only a brother. And he’s not biologically my brother. He and his mum kind of took me in._

_I’m sorry._

_Don’t be. It’s ok. We love each other. His mom was more like an aunt than another mom for me. And unfortunately she passed away a few years ago so now it’s just me and him._

Lance leans forward and places his head in his hands. He wants to cry, but isn’t sure why. Maybe so he can feel all the loss and sadness that his soul mate has? To help with the burden?

 

He wishes he could hug him.

 

_I’m sorry. Babe, I’m so sorry._

_It’s ok. I’m ok. Sorry just hearing about your family was really nice. Like some kind of fantasy you know?_

_I feel like kind of an asshole though. Flaunting something you don’t have._

_No I wanted you to. I wanted to know that at least one of us grew up somewhere warm and loved._

_You’re loved. I’m sure of it. I know it._

_I know. I’m ok I promise. I really do love my brother and I know he loves me. It’s just hard sometimes._

_You can talk to me about it. I promise I’m here for you._

_I know._

_You’re loved._

_You’re so lucky. You really are._

_I know. I’m sorry. But I think you are too. I know I can never possibly understand, but I got several mediocre brothers who are loud and harass me and pick on me. It sounds like things have been hard for you, but your brother really does sound amazing and like he’s the best bro/dad/uncle combo haha._

_He really is._

_A small family with love is better than a large family full of people that hate each other._

_I guess so._

_I know we haven’t talked about meeting at all. But I’ve thought about it, and if we ever do… I would really want to meet your brother. And I would love for you to hang out with my family too._

_I think I’d like that._

_I promise babe. If we ever meet, my mom would sweep you into her arms immediately._

_Haha well I’d probably be really awkward._

_Of course. But it’s supposed to be. That’s part of the whole experience._

_It’s really sweet of you to offer. God you must think I’m such a mess. No mom. No friends._

_No not at all. I think you’re very sweet and I admire all you’ve accomplished despite the challenges you’ve had. Honestly I still can’t believe that you’ve had trouble making friends. Who doesn’t want to hang out with the nice, athletic, hot guy?_

_Oh jeez._

_If you were at my school people would be crawling all over you. I wish I could show you how special you are._

_God why are you like this?_

_Like what?_

_So damn nice. You make me feel so good._

Lance places his hand over his heart and leans forward. He feels like he’s about to burst. Like he wishes he could transport himself to his soul mate and wrap him up in his tight embrace. Hold him close and show him how wonderful he is. His hands are shaking.

 

_Babe you deserve to feel like that all the time_

_See! You just… say such nice things!_

_Haha._

 

Lance looks at the time and sighs. It’s way later than he intended. He hopes that his soul mate is feeling well enough that he can sign off. Even though he doesn’t want to. The irresponsible part of Lance is screaming at him to just keep talking until dawn. Skip school and sleep in. But he knows Hunk would kick his ass.

 

_Well I’m very happy that I make you happy. I think that’s what you’re saying? Sorry that sounds weird to say_

_No you do! I love talking to you!_

_I love talking to you too._

Lance draws himself smiling brightly. He puts little stars around his grin and captions it ‘what I look like when we talk’. He receives a drawing in return of his soul mate who is also smiling, but a bit smaller. His eyes look soft and gentle. God, Lance had to stop getting pictures of his beautiful soul mate or else his imagination will run wild. He tries not to swoon and composes himself.

 

_I’m really sorry but-_

_I know I know. You need to sleep. I’m a bad influence._

_You are not. I’ve actually been doing more homework lately because you yell at me about it so much._

_Excellent. Good. You are my project now._

_Oh god_

_Now go to sleep tiny child. You need your brain to rest to be prepared for school in the morning_

_Please stop_

_Play nice with the other kids!_

_God. Night babe._

_Night soul mate._

Lance feels a sense of sadness overcome him as he steps into his nightly shower and the heavy messages and notes of support begin to wash down the drain. His skin is left fresh and completely unremarkable. No traces remain of the person he is connected to on the other side. It leaves Lance feeling … hollow.

 

He stands in front of the bathroom looking at his clean body, not quite able to process how this vessel can connect him to someone else. He wonders how far their connection extends. If he touches himself, can his roommate feel it? No, no of course not, he knows that. If he gets a tattoo will his soul mate get one too? He’s actually pretty sure that, yes, he would. If he cuts himself, will his soul mate also become scratched?

 

This is the time of night that Lance usually just becomes himself again. That his body becomes his own and only his. It’s no longer a canvas shared between two people. It’s usually refreshing, but now Lance looks at himself and feels achingly lonely. He doesn’t want to let go of this connection just yet. He needs something. A tether to hang on too. Something that lets him see his soul mate at the other end.

 

Lance’s breathing stutters. He isn’t sure if this is too forward or if it’ll freak his soul mate out, but his hand moves anyway. He reaches for his trusty blue marker and draws a small love heart on his left hand, just at the base of his thumb. It’s small and discrete. He immediately feels better.

 

A red heart immediately appears next to it and Lance stares at it. He clasps his own hand and presses it close to his heart.

 

With all the messages that Lance and his soul mate exchange, with all the times they wash off their skin to give them more room for messages or prepare for the new day, they never wash off the hearts. Lance always darkens his in the morning and his soul mate darkens his about mid-day.

 

Lance rubs his thumb over the hearts until he falls asleep.

 

…

 

“Hey,” Matt waltzes into Shiro’s bedroom unannounced. Shiro is lounging in his boxers and glances up from his ipad with a frown.

“You don’t live here. You can’t just wander in like a stray cat.” His gaze goes back to whatever he’s reading.

“Rude. But we’ll discuss that in a second because…” Matt quietly closes the door behind himself.

“Your brother is currently sitting in the living room… naked… _covered_ in writing and just giggling to himself.”

“Oh yeah, he does that.” Shiro waves off Matt’s concern and goes back to reading. Matt stares in confusion. His eyes narrow and his hands frantically flap around his face, unable to grasp what Shiro has just said.

 

“I’m really happy for him.” Shiro quietly smiles.

 

…

 

“Lance!” Hunk barks at his friend. He sits in Lance’s bedroom with papers sprawled all around him. Textbooks lay open, but forgotten beside the bed. and a collection of poster paper and art supplies still sit in their packaging.

 

“We need to focus on the assignment!” Hunk implores.

 

Lance barely notices him. Instead he continues to lie on his bed in nothing but his briefs. His arms and legs are covered in red and blue writing. Lance leans back and mischievously giggles as he draws a heart around each of his nipples.

 

 _You’ll pay for that_ appears on his thigh. Lance throws his head back and cackles. He stares at his body and waits for his soul mate’s revenge.

 

 _Tiny_  Appears in large letters across his lower abdomen. Lance sees a line drawn that dips beneath his underwear.

 

“Oh my god, did he…?” He tries to contain his giggles. He lifts up the band of his underwear, and sure enough, there is an arrow pointed directly at his dick.

 

“Oooooh my gooood, that little sneak-!”

 

“Lance!” Hunk snaps again. Lance actually turns his attention on to him this time.

“Come on dude, we have a presentation tomorrow.” Hunk softens. Lance smiles sheepishly.

“Ah sorry sorry!” He crawls off the bed and pulls himself to sit cross-legged next to his best friend.

“I promise, I will be 100% focused on you and me now, but first-!” He thrusts his marker towards Hunk’s face.

“Will you draw a tramp stamp on me?”

 

Hunk answers with a dead expression.

“Not even a little one?” He bats his lashes, but Hunk is strong.

“Lance…”

“Alright, alright.” Lance huffs. He begins to pull on his pants and a shirt.

“Time for homework.”

“Thanks man. We really have a lot to do.”

“I know, I know, but I’m sure we can do it! I’m always the best at oral…” He pauses and waggles his eyebrows.

“…presentations.” He finishes.

“God you’re awful. I can’t believe there’s someone out there who’s literally made for you.” Hunk groans, but there’s a smile on his lips when he finishes.

 

True to his word, Lance does actually manage to focus on their assignment. He types up summaries of information, prints them out, and begins to stick them on to the poster board. Hunk completes drawing the models of the chemical compounds, as Lance is too worried he’ll make a mistake, and Lance sticks them onto the board and writes exciting headers like ‘wow chemistry!’ and ‘check out them bonds!’ around them.

 

Lance is preparing his cue cards for his speech when Hunk catches him looking at the hearts on his hand again. Hunk had noticed them for a while now, but never asked what their significance was. He knows that they are always there. Even when Lance’s arms are clean for school, those hearts still remain.

 

Hunk never asked what they meant, but as he watches Lance stupidly smile down at them and then go back to his cue cards… he feels like he has a pretty good idea.

 

“You’re really smitten with him, aren’t you?”

 

Lance looks up in surprise. He braces himself for the barrage of teasing, but he only finds Hunk gently smiling at him. His voice is kind and he softly chuckles. Lance flushes.

 

“Mmmm” He hums, unable to fully vocalize his feelings just yet.

“Have you told him?”

“No, no at least…” He chews his bottom lip. “Not in _that_ way. Like he knows I like him as a person, but not like… like _that.”_ Lance nervously thumbs through his cue cards.

“You should tell him.”

“Or you know, I could just _die._ ” Lance wheezes. Hunk pats his shoulder in support.

 

…

 

Hunk’s words haunt Lance for several days. Ever since Lance admitted his feelings to his friend, it feels like he has finally admitted them to himself. Every time a new message comes in his stomach leaps. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much during their drawing sessions. It feels like is feelings have only become clearer.

 

He wants to tell him. He wants to tell him every time he calls him babe. Every time he gets called ‘soul mate’ in return, but he promised that he wouldn’t rush this. That he wouldn’t fall head over heels and potentially force his soul mate into an attachment he doesn’t want.

 

Lance weighs up the pros and cons continuously. When they’re talking and laughing together he is hopeful. His soul mate puts love hearts around his crappy drawings and he knows he gets flustered when Lance calls him cute or handsome when he draws himself. These all make him hope.

 

But alone at night, the thought that his soul mate could like him back sounds ridiculous and confessing becomes foolish.

 

It’s two o’clock in the morning and the thoughts have been rattling around inside Lance’s head for too long, working him into an exhausted, insomniac mess. He reaches for his phone and calls Hunk.

 

“I wanna tell him.” He blurts as soon as he hears the phone pick up.

“So do it.” An exhausted, but patient voice answers.

“I can’t. God, what if he-“

“Lance…” Hunk sighs. “It’s two in the morning, and I’m sure you’ve been thinking about this all night. I’m pretty sure we both know there’s only one way this is going to end.”

Lance is silent.

“It was decided as soon as you called me. Your marker is already in your hand. I know it.”

And Lance both loves and hates that he’s right. He let’s out a humourless laugh.

“Am I that predictable?”

“You just feel things so strongly Lance. It’s part of why I love you.” Hunk laughs.

“Now I’m exhausted. Tell the boy already so I can go back to sleep.”

“Alright, alright, jeez so pushy.” Lance uncaps his marker.

“Thought you’d be more supportive.” He teases.

“Two am Lance… Two fucking am…”

“Fair enough,” Lance laughs. “Goodnight Hunk.”

“Night bro.”

There’s a click and Lance is left alone with his marker.

 

He’s not sure what to write. Should he talk about how he came to this conclusion? Should he start with ‘hey sorry please don’t panic, but hey funny thing I realized…”. In the end, he scrawls in a blind panic.

 

_I like you._

 

He screams into his pillow until he passes out from exhaustion.

 

…

 

Keith wakes up feeling uncharacteristically refreshed. It’s been happening more often lately, and he’s not sure what the cause is. It’s possible that he’s acclimating better to his night classes, or that his diet is more under control. But Keith has to admit that always receiving a sweet, good night message from his soul mate might also be having an impact.

 

At the thought of his soul mate, he instinctively looks at the hearts on his thumb. The blue one has been darkened recently. Keith smiles and reaches for his red marker. With his arm outstretched, he sees a message on the underside of his forearm. He turns his arm over to look at it.

 

_I like you._

Keith’s breath catches. He stares in disbelief. Why? Why would these words appear now? What had provoked his soul mate to say such a thing? And why is his gut leaping so much that he feels like he might vomit?

 

Despite the shock and fear that is gripping Keith’s chest, his most surprising reaction is that he starts…. Laughing. Quietly and joyfully. He runs his fingers over the message and he starts to beam. He feels himself flush all the way down to his collarbones and he buries his face in his hands.

 

…

 

_I’m scared_

Lance is caught off guard during recess. He immediately disassociates from the conversation he was having with Pidge and Hunk and reaches for his marker.

“Oh, and there he goes,” Pidge smirks.

 

_I’m sorry. I promise you don’t need to say anything. I just really wanted to tell you._

His pulse thunders in his throat.

 

_I’m scared because I like you too._

“Aha,” A noise like a laugh and a squeak bursts from Lance’s throat. He looks at his friends in embarrassment and is surprised at the smiles he receives. Pidge shakes her head.

 

“Did it work out?” She smirks.

 

Lance nods.

 

Detentions be damned, he starts to draw on his arms. By the time he goes to class he is an art installation of blue and red hearts.

 

…

 

Keith cannot stop smiling for days. His soul mate now signs off every night by calling him babe and drawing little Xs and Os across his arm. Keith tries to draw more often, because he loves how excited his soul mate gets and the smattering of love hearts that he always receives around his drawings.

 

He’s lazily playing a game of tic-tac-toe on his arm when Shiro walks in.

“It’s 11:30 on a Tuesday. That means the bae should be iiiinnnnnn…” He thinks. “Maths?”

“Chemistry.”

“Ah, of course. And you’re helping?” Shiro teases. Keith smirks.

“Of course.”

 

Shiro pulls up a chair and sits across from his brother. Keith immediately lets his marker fall. This is his lecturing spot. If he were just here to chat or eat lunch he would sit next to him. Keith crosses his arms defensively. Waiting.

 

“Keith-“

“Shiro.” Keith mimics his tone. Shiro shoots him a glare before continuing.

“Tomorrow is my university’s open day, and I want to take you.” He begins slowly. Keith grimaces.

“You’re going to have a high school diploma at the end of this year, so you’ll be able to qualify for university and I would like it if you…. _Thought_ about it.”

Keith’s sour expression remains unchanged.

“Look I know high school was rough-“

“That’s an understatement.” He scoffs.

“But uni is really different. People are accepted more, and they start to appreciate the differences. People who have struggled are admired, and because of the course you enroll in, you find a whole cohort of people who are passionate about the same stuff as you.” Shiro explains. He reaches across the small table and gently touches Keith’s hand. Keith lets him take it.

“I dunno, Shiro. I don’t know if I’m cut out-“ Keith shrinks into himself. Shiro holds on tighter.

“You’re so smart, Keith.” He smiles. “So smart. And I know that uni would really value that. You _are_ cut out for academics, it was just your school wasn’t cut out for _you_.”

Keith chews on the inside of his cheek.

“I don’t even know what I want to do.” He sighs.

“That’s ok.” Shiro pats his hand. “I don’t expect you to. That’s why I’m taking you.” He relaxes back into his chair.

“I just want you to visit. Maybe talk to people about the different courses and see if anything sounds interesting. There’s an LGBT club you can talk to as well.”

Keith shakes his head.

“You can’t bribe me with _other_ gay people.” He grins.

“Just admit that you’ll go.” Shiro states.

Keith deeply inhales, then exhales in a slow, shuddering breath.

“Fine.”

Shiro fist-pumps as he leaps off of his chair. He thumps Keith’s back several times and repeats:

“Thank you, bro you’re gonna have such a good time. This’ll be really good for you. Thank you for giving this a chance.”

Keith somehow doubts all this, but he’ll go… for Shiro’s sake.

 

…

 

_Did I tell you my bro is dragging me to a uni open day?_

_Oh no you didn’t. Also yikes._

_Yeah._

_Maybe it’ll be fun?_

_Maybe._

_Like it’s cool seeing all the different options available to you! In the same small area you’ll be able to talk to an archeologist, a creative writer, and a guy who makes robots. That’s neat._

_Yeah I guess that’s a good spin._

_Yeah! See! It’ll be great._

_Ok, ok._

_Good luck!_

_Haha thanks <3_

…

 

Keith is quiet as he sits in the front seat of Shiro’s car. He’s been to the university a couple of times, but usually as free labour helping Shiro or one of his friends move offices or build bookshelves or something. This will be the first time that he’ll be exploring by himself. This will be the first time that he is there for himself.

 

Butterflies have started in his stomach, but he tries not to focus on them. Instead he’s hiked up his pants and is drawing love hearts on his knees. Blue love hearts start to appear on his calves. A small smile appears on his lips and the nervousness in his gut dissipates.

 

“Know his name yet?” Shiro watches with interest. Keith shakes his head.

“Don’t need to.” He states with certainty. It catches Shiro a bit off guard, so he drops the subject. The brothers are quiet as Shiro drives through the gates and parks in his usual spot.

 

“Ok,” He turns the car off and pointedly looks at Keith. “The events are being held in the courtyard. You know where that is?”

“Yes, Shiro.” Keith rolls his eyes.

“I want you to stay for at least an hour. Grab some literature for future reading. I’ll be in my office just grading papers, so come get me if you need anything or if you’re done.”

“Ok,” Keith’s hand unlatches his door handle.

“Hey,” Shiro grabs his arm before he can exit. Keith turns back to look at him.

“Thank you for doing this. I’m proud of you for coming here. I know it must be hard.”

“N…no problem.” Keith stutters.

 

Shiro exists in this weird plane between big brother and father. Moments like these always make Keith uncomfortable because he isn’t sure what to feel. All at once he gets the pressure of an only son, struggling to uphold his father’s legacy, but he also wants to turn around and put his brother in a headlock. It’s an odd dichotomy. Keith just settles on nodding and mumbling “no problem” before he exits the car.

 

He wanders down to the courtyard and is immediately uncomfortable. It’s too noisy, and there’s too many people yelling at him to “Come join theatre club!” or “Sign up here for anime club! We’re starting off the year right with Evangelion!”

Keith is over stimulated and suddenly feels old as he wanders through a swathe of 16 or 17 year olds still in high school and excited about their future prospects. They speak too loudly and move around in herds. Keith wonders if his soul mate is this loud and obnoxious.

 

Somehow though, Keith feels that if he saw his soul mate walking around excitedly, tugging him by the hand from booth to booth… he would find it _cute_. Keith passes by the astronomy booth and immediately wonders how his soul mate would run in and start gathering every pamphlet they have. Keith feels compelled to go in and look for himself. They have some large telescopes on display and photographs of some impressive nebulas. The astronomers sit next to the astrophysicists, united by their love of space junk.

 

Keith wanders over to the table and picks up a sparkling rock.

“Cool right?” An older girl with a bob cut asks from across the table. She wears large hoop earrings that clash with her official university t-shirt.

“It’s a meteorite. Are you interested in space?”

“Uh yeah. I’ve always liked constellations and stuff.” Keith sets the rock down and picks up a free star map.

“I have a friend who is thinking of going into this field so I just kind of wondered… what he might be getting into.”

“Oh that’s cool. He’s probably taking a lot of physics and chemistry then, yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” Keith smirks. “He hates it.”

“Oh no,”

Keith and the girl both smile.

“Well we’re here all day if you he wants to come down”

“I don’t think he’ll be able to make it, but thanks.”

 

Keith continues to wander through the booths. He stops at the journalism booth for a second, before he realizes that that is an awful idea and continues on his way. He ends up at a microbiology booth looking at petri dishes with some interest, before he plays with a Newton’s cradle in the physics area for a solid five minutes.

 

He’s looking at the arts with some interest, examining past students portraits and some graphic design that has been hung up to show off. There’s a large digital mural that he walks down until he comes to a table covered in rainbow flags.

 

“Hey what’s up! Welcome to gay club!” A boy shouts. The girl sitting next to him elbows him hard in the ribs. Keith raises an eyebrow at their antics.

“We’re the university LGBT+ support group and club.” The girl turns to sheepishly smile at Keith. There’s a lesbian flag pinned to her lapel. The boy nurses his bruised ribs and Keith can see a temporary trans flag tattoo on his cheek.

“Are these free?” Keith approaches and starts to pick through their basket of pins and ribbons. He finds a rainbow pin.

“Oh yes! Help yourself.” The boy gestures to the basket.

Keith is already one step ahead and pins the small brooch to his collar. It stands out against his almost completely black and grey outfit.

“Is there a reason you guys are over here with the art kids and not with the rest of the clubs?” He asks.

“I feel like you already know the answer to that.” The girl answers with a deadpan expression. Keith glances over at all the art students manning the different booths and shrugs.

“Yeah, fair enough.”

“So you thinking of joining?” The boy leans forward eagerly. He’s already reaching for a clipboard.

“What do you do anyway?” Keith asks.

“Eat pizza and talk shit about straight people.”

“Right on.” Keith nods. He fills out the clipboard with his details, even though he has no idea whether he’ll actually attend this university or not.

 

It actually lifts his mood, and to his surprise, Keith does take some information about an illustration course. He’s flicking through the requirements when he wanders over to the sports clubs. There’s a swim team standing around in their speedos and Keith has to laugh. He has a feeling that his soul mate would absolutely do this sort of thing. He moves by quickly before pausing at the soccer club. He wonders if maybe he’d be able to pick it up after wanting to be on a team all these years. He’s about to ask someone about it when a voice rings out.

 

“Holy shit guys, if it isn’t our local trouble-maker”

 

Keith’s heart turns icy. He stops breathing and his pulse leaps into his throat. His eyes freeze on the pamphlet he is holding and he doesn’t dare look up. They have to be talking to someone else. It’s just his imagination. Those boys can’t be _here_.

 

“Keeeeeeith! My man!” They continue. The lead boy comes up and claps Keith on the shoulder.

“Don’t touch me.” Keith hastily slips out from under his grip. He finally turns around to glare at the people who have approached him.

 

They’re older and slimier than he remembers, but their cruel faces are still the same as two years ago. The lead boy holds his hands up and gives out a low whistle.

“Whoa, whoa, ok. Still as temperamental as ever I see.” His toadies laugh. Keith is already looking for an exit.

“What the hell are you doing Kogane? You have to have actually gotten through high school to get into university.” His smile is venomous. Keith’s glare burns into his skin.

“And we all know that there’s no high school in the state that will take on your damaged charity case.” He sneers.

“I honestly can’t believe he’s not in jail.” One of his lackies comments. Keith doesn’t even spare them a glance. He keeps his rigid gaze on the lead boy who insists on encroaching on his personal space.

“Man, I feel bad for poor Takashi. Poor boy thinks he can make something of you.” He tuts. “He should have left you in the gutter where he found you.”

Keith spits on his shoes. The boy’s eyes widen and his friends look nervously at him to see what orders they will be given. Keith smirks. The boy’s face twists into something unhinged and he steps in close. He finger presses on Keith’s pride flag until it digs into his skin.

“Looks like you’ve sunk even lower than the last time we met.”

 

Keith shoves him out of his face… hard. The boy stumbles back, but his friend’s hands are already gripping onto Keith’s arms and trying to hold him.

 

Keith sees red.

 

…

 

 

Lance walks home from Hunk’s house with an extra spring in his step. The afternoon is warm and reminds him of the summers he spent in his old home in Cuba. He trails his hands over the hedges in the neighbour’s yards before he reaches the front of his house. He hops over a discarded bike and walks through his front door.

 

He can hear music playing in the kitchen and he sees his mother washing a stack of dishes. She hums along with the music and sways gently.

“Hey mama, I’m home.” Lance greets. His mom takes her hands out of the sink and flicks water off of them.

“How is Hunk? Did your presentation go- Qué mierda!” She drops a tea towel and rushes over to Lance. She clasps his face in her hands and begins to frantically pet his hair and stroke his cheeks.

“Mi bebé! Quien ha lastimado a mi bebé?” She coos. Lance wrenches himself out of her grip.

“Mama! What are you talking about? No one’s hurt me.”

“Do not lie to me!” She roars and gestures wildly. “Do not tell me these lies with your face looking like that!”

Fear surges in Lance’s chest. He mumbles out an apology before he turns to sprint down the hallway to his bathroom.

“Lance! Get back here!” His mother calls out, but he ignores her cries.

 

Lance screeches into the bathroom and slams the door behind him. He pounds on the light switch until the room is illuminated and he can see his reflection in the mirror. His lungs stop working.

“Oh no, no, nonononono…” Lance crowds the mirror and touches the dark bruise forming around his eye. There’s another on his jaw.

“Shit, shit, shit…” Panic starts to flow through his veins. He rips off his school uniform until he’s just in his underwear.

 

“Fuck,” He hisses when he sees himself. As expected, many more bruises dot his body. There’s a nasty pair of scratches on his arms and his knuckles are raw and red. Something is very wrong. Keith always wore gloves at martial arts now.

 

 _Babe?!?!!_ Lance frantically writes on his arm.

 

 _Babe what’s happened? Are you ok?_ Lance wonders how many agonizing minutes he has to wait until a reply comes in.

 

It’s seven. Seven torturous minutes of not knowing whether his soul mate is safe, conscious, or even alive.

 

_I’m so sorry soul mate_

_You don’t deserve this._

_You don't deserve me._

Any relief that melted over Lance at seeing a reply is immediately nullified when he reads the message.

 

_What are you talking about? Stop saying stupid things. What happened? Are you ok?_

There’s a pause.

 

_Babe please. I’m panicking over here. I’m almost crying._

Lance, unable to stand anymore, slides his back against the door until he sits cross-legged on the tiles.

 

_I got in a fight._

_Are you ok?_

_Yeah_

_Does the other guy at least look as bad as you?_

_The other three guys look much worse than me._

Lance huffs out a laugh. He rubs his face with both hands, trying to compose himself, and then pushes his hair off of his forehead.

 

_Violence is not the answer, but I will admit that that is kinda hot_

_Thanks??_

_My bad boy <3_

_Oh my god_

He hopes his soul mate is blushing and feeling a bit more at ease. Lance sinks into the floor with a long sigh.

 

_Do you wanna tell me what happened?_

_I’m worried you’ll see me differently._

_I won’t. I promise._

_I haven’t been honest with you._

Lance swallows. He’s afraid, but needs his soul mate to continue. He needs to know the truth.

 

_Ok. That’s ok. Do you wanna be honest now?_

_Yeah._

_Ok then. I’ve got time._

_…_

Keith swallows. Here goes nothing.

 

_You know how I said I didn’t really have a family? And my brother kind of took me in?_

_Yeah._

_Yeah well a lot of people think that I was part of an orphanage or a foster care system. I wasn’t. I was abandoned and genuinely homeless._

Keith struggles to breathe. A painful lump forms in his throat. He’s never told anyone about this before.

 

_I remember squatting in shelters for a while, running a lot across the country. It’s kind of a blur. And I did it for a while._

_How long?_

_I think I was 10?_

_Jesus babe._

_I know, I know. But foster care scared me, so I just kept moving. And then one day this older kid and I became friends. We would talk and he would give me good food, and before I knew it he was taking me home and telling me he would be my family now. My brother picked me off the streets in the most literal sense._

_Fairytale ending then._

_Hang on. So he’s enrolled in this very elite school, and so I end up going there too. Things are ok for a while. Like I’m awkward and have difficulty making friends, but most kids just leave me alone. I have a home and food and shelter. It was the best my life had ever been._

Keith’s fingers tremble.

 

_Then… and I don’t know how they found out. I don’t know if my brother’s mom told another mom in confidence or what, but the other kids found out. And because this school was filled with rich little shits, I became garbage to them._

_Oh no, babe._

_The bullying got really horrific. They found out when I was 15 and it just ramped up every year. Calling me trash, telling me I was a burden to my beloved brother. Leaving notes on my locker. The works. No one had tried to physically hurt me yet though because everyone knew I did a lot of martial arts._

_So what happened?_

_I just snapped one day. I was cornered in a hall. People throwing things and shouting at me. I was having a panic attack. One boy made the mistake of touching me and I broke his wrist and nose in three places._

_He deserved it._

_He did. I don’t regret it. But it did get me expelled._

_Ah ok. Hence the night school._

_Yeah_

_Babe it’s ok. No one goes to night school if they’ve had an easy life. It’s either for immigrants who have just shown up and speak no English, kids who got moved around so much by their families that they miss school, or people in your kind of situation who get expelled or can’t finish. I always knew there would be a back story. It’s ok babe. I still like you. I don’t think any differently of you._

_Thanks._ Keith sighs. He still can’t summon the strength to make eye contact with Shiro driving next to him, but at least he starts to feel that things will be normal with his soul mate again.

 

_So why the fight today?_

_They were at the open day._

_You broke a kid last time and they still messed with you?_

_I guess they figured they were bigger now? I don’t know. But now they made fun of my situation and being gay, so I just kind of –_

_It’s ok. I get it. I would have too. I don’t blame you at all._

Keith shudders out an exhale.

 

He’s relieved to see their driveway quickly approaching.

 

…

 

_Sorry I’m having a hard time getting words out_

Lance runs his hands aggressively through his hair. His mouth is turned into a hard scowl. There’s a mixture of rage and great sorrow swirling around inside him.

 

_It’s ok._

_I’m so angry._

_I’m sorry. Do the bruises look that bad?_

_What no! Babe I’m mad at the people who did this to you!_ Lance writes so quickly that the ink smudges a bit.

 

_I wish I could be there for you. I wish I could have been by your side. I wish I could have grown up with you and been your friend all those years._

_Thank you._

_Sorry I’m having problems processing all this. I don’t know how to make this better and it’s driving me crazy._

_You accepting me was all I wanted._

Lance feels tears painfully prickle at his eyes. He needs to do more. He thinks about what his soul mate never had growing up, what he needs now. What would his mother do?

 

Lance immediately stops weeping. He sits up straight. He knows exactly what his mother would do.

 

 _Hang on._  He writes.

 

He surges towards his bathroom cabinet and begins to dig through the shelves and drawers. There has to be one in there somewhere. He swears his sister had left one when she had moved out. Lance digs through bobby pins and scrunchies and cough medicine until he finally finds a small gold tube. Lance pops open the cap and smiles as he rolls up a tube of scarlet lipstick.

 

It’s stupid. And cheesy. But Lance thinks this might be the sort of cheesy thing that his soul mate needs right now. He leans forward and begins to apply the lipstick to his own lips. He’s never been very good at this, with the few times he’s had to be in drag for a Halloween or theatre thing as testament to that, but he’s not going for perfection. He draws it on and smacks his lips a few times.

 

He looks down at a nasty bruise on his forearm. He sighs, then gently kisses it. He pulls away and smiles with satisfaction when he sees the red lipped mark that his kiss leaves.

 

…

 

Keith gasps at the kiss mark that appears on his arm. He trails his thumb over it in disbelief. Another kiss appears on his hand. Another and another. He collapses on his floor as he’s overcome with emotion and stares at the bright red kisses on his painful bruises.

 

 _Are these your lips?_ He finally manages to write.

 

_Yeah._

Keith hiccups and the tears start to flow down his cheek. He kisses his own knuckles wondering if his soul mate knows. He struggles to breathe.

 

_I’m honestly so emotional right now. Thank you._

_Me too. I wish I could do more._

Keith laughs. More? He feels like his soul mate has already given him more than he deserves. He wraps his arms around his chest feeling like if he doesn’t he’ll overflow and burst apart. His lips feel cold. He scrambles for his marker.

 

_I wanna kiss you._

…

 

Lance kisses that message on his arm until his lips no longer leave any marks.

 

…

 

“Keith, hey…” Shiro cautiously wanders into his little brother’s room. He freezes when he finds Keith sobbing on the floor. He’s holding his arm close and his lips are smeared with red. Shiro runs over.

 

“Keith!” He pulls Keith up and into his arms. Keith is heaving with sobs.

“Are you ok? What’s happening?” He gently pets the back of his brother’s head as he holds the smaller boy against his chest.

“Can you…” Keith barely manages to get out before he’s wracked with sobs. Shiro waits patiently.

“Can you… tell Matt…”

“Matt?” Shiro’s hand on his back stills its soothing motions.

“Thank you for drawing a dick on me?” Keith clings to Shiro’s shirt and shakes.

“Oh my god,” Shiro squeezes him extra tight. “Buddy, he knows. I don’t have to tell him. He knows.”

 

Shiro holds Keith until his throat is raw and their shirts are soaked with his tears. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof this hurt to write.
> 
> I hope it hurt to read.
> 
> The next and last chapter is 99% fluff I swear. 
> 
> (Also I don't speak spanish. I don't know what I'm doing. If someone wants to correct that little interaction go right ahead)
> 
> Oh yeah! I'm on tumblr at irrevocably-delicious.tumblr.com if you wanna come chat or yell at me about klance


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith finds direction in his life and Lance smiles more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST CHAPTER HOLY SHIT!
> 
> Happy new year! I hope you've enjoyed this ride!

Lance sprints across the hot concrete in bare feet until he reaches the cool grass. He hates running in his speedos, but he feels that if he didn’t his skin might burn right off. He breathes a sigh of relief when he finally reaches the shade where the rest of the swim team is sitting.

 

“You’re late.” Allura, his captain, doesn’t even look up from her clipboard.

“Sorry. My mom couldn’t find her shoes.” Lance reasons.

“Alright, but don’t think that just cuz youHOLY SHIT!” Allura’s mouth drops open. Her eyes quickly move up and down Lance’s exposed body, taking in the numerous bruises there.

“What on earth happened to you?” She holds up her hand to her mouth in a gasp.

“I-“

“Hunk have you seen this?” She doesn’t give Lance a chance to explain before she’s calling his best friend over. Hunk looks up from where he’s slathering sunscreen on to one of their younger members.

“Oh fuck” He breathes. He makes nervous eyes contact with the young boy in front of him.

“I mean… Oh… Oh dear, that looks real…” He leaves his post and scuttles towards Lance. He takes his jaw in his large hand and turns it so he can closer examine Lance’s black eye and bruised jaw.

“Dude, what the hell?”

“It’s no big deal.” Lance snaps and pulls out of Hunk’s hold. He looks over to see Allura’s concerned expression and how she grips her clipboard tightly. Her eyes keep darting to the bruises on his thighs.

“It’s nothing.” Lance softens. “I was just play fighting with Emile and he’s gotten a lot stronger than I thought. We were pirates… he had a big stick…” Lance sighs. “I’m fine. I promise I’m fine. Nothing hurts. I just wanna swim.”

Allura swallows any other questions she has and nods.

“Alright team! Get in the pool and warm up. You know the drill.”

 

Lance dives in and immediately feels his anxieties wash away with the water. The water fills his ears and blocks out any noise, including his own thoughts. It’s quiet. Swimming had always been a relaxing activity for Lance, even with the pressure of a race. He misses the mornings where he could run down to the beach to clear his head, but now all of his worries pile up throughout the week until they can be released on a glorious Saturday morning. He takes long, languid, strokes until he hits the opposite end. He pops up with a gasp and pauses to catch his breath. He leans his forehead against the cool tiles and breathes in the burning smell of chlorine.

 

“Hagpf!” He cries as something yanks him under by the ankle. He struggles before he’s wrapped in strong, tan arms.

 

Hunk pops them both up and spits a stream of water in his face.

“Hunk!” Lance splutters. His friend giggles.

“Stop brooding.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.” Hunk’s eyes narrow. He drops his voice so it just barely bounces off the surface of the water. “I know these bruises aren’t yours.” His tone is serious.

“You dunno.”

“Emile is all noodle. I know he can’t do this.” Hunk explains. A grin comes across his face. “Are you in love with a rowdy boy?”

Lance scoffs. He slips underwater and out of Hunk’s grip, then pops up just out of reach.

“My soul mate and I are both very sensitive and troubled people.” He dramatically points at his chest. Hunk snorts.

“Lance, you cried when you ran out of Pringles once. You’re not deep.”

 

Lance blinks at him several times before he pouts and crosses his arms.

“Maybe so.”

 

…

 

Days pass and the bruises fade. Keith stops tip-toeing around Shiro and it feels like his life returns to some sense of normalcy. He listens to his soul mate rant about skin care, and they talk about how they’ve never seen snow. His soul mate will openly tell him how much he likes him, and Keith learns to believe and accept his sweet words.

 

But he starts to feel that words are not enough. The absence, which at first had been a blessing for anxious and socially awkward Keith, now mocks him. His bed feels cold at night.

 

It’s a lazy Sunday and Keith is lounged across the sofa. Matt and Shiro are in the backyard and the smell of charcoal and grilled meat drifts through the back door. Keith doodles a palm tree on his thigh for his soul mate who says he misses his old home.

 

_Looks like my old beach_

_Haha I just drew a basic palm tree_

_Well it’s good._

_Thanks_

_No problem babe_

Keith draws a couple of hearts around his soul mate’s message.

 

_Hey I don’t want to freak you out_

The tone of Keith’s afternoon rapidly shifts. He eyes the incoming message warily.

 

_But have you thought about your plans after you graduate? Like will you go to university? Did any courses interest you? I realise that open day was pretty traumatic for you, but did you see anything interesting before it went bad?_

Keith pulls his knees up to his chest. He really hasn’t thought about that much at all. That night had been such a whirlwind of emotions with his initial guilt and shame turning into feelings of intense love and gratefulness. He had barely remembered what was _supposed_ to happen that day.

 

_I honestly have no idea. I haven’t thought of it since._

_Anything look interesting?_

_I dunno. I was always good at science and maths._

_Do you like those areas?_

_Not really. They’re ok. I always got As_

_Have you thought about art at all?_

Keith scoffs.

 

_I’m not good enough for that_

_BABE! HOW DARE YOU!_

Keith smiles and rolls his eyes.

 

_You are absolutely good enough! Do you like drawing?_

_I dunno. I used to draw a lot. I love drawing for you. I never even considered it as a career_

_Why don’t you?_

_I saw the student’s work there. I don’t think I’m good enough. That’s ok! I’m just happy drawing simple stuff for you._

_What if I prove you’re good enough?_

Keith squints in confusion.

 

_How would you do that?_

_It’s my birthday in 10 days. And I know what I want._

Keith beams. His birthday! He’s never been able to celebrate a birthday other than Shiro’s or Matt’s before. He wonders if his soul mate will have a big party, or a huge dinner with his whole family? Then Keith feels sad, knowing he won’t be able to do anything from where he is.

 

_Oh you do, do you?_

_YEAH! So the day of my birthday I have a big swimming race_

_Uh huh_

_And I of course wear speedos._

_Yeah… I’m picturing it now ;p_

_Good. I look amazing btw. But obviously they show a lot of skin_

_They would_

_So I want you to draw me a really cool art piece on my thigh for good luck. Like the greatest temporary tattoo ever._

Keith reads the message repeatedly. The sentiment is lovely, but the pressure is making his heart race. Everyone would see it. And it wouldn’t be spur of the moment art, it would have to be something he’s painstakingly planned and created just for his soul mate.

 

_I couldn’t do that_

_Sure you could! For me? Please?_

Keith feels his resolve weakening. How can he be so helpless for a boy he’s never met?

 

_It’s my birthday remember :(_

Keith crumbles.

 

_What would you even want?_

_I dunno! Haha it’s a swim meet! Something with fish? OHH! Or a mermaid?_

_Ok ok_

He can’t believe he’s actually going to attempt this.

 

_Everyone will love it. I’ll prove it to you._

_Tell me if you don’t like it so I can wash it off on my end._

_Impossible. I know I’ll love it._

“God,” Keith falls back on the couch and smothers his face in a cushion.

 

…

 

Shiro comes home from work a few days later and finds Keith sitting at the kitchen table. There are pieces of paper all around him and pencil shavings dusted everywhere. Keith doesn’t even look up when Shiro approaches. Shiro assumes that he is studying for an upcoming test or exam, but instead sees drawings and various printed images of sea life. He skeptically raises an eyebrow as he looks over Keith’s shoulder. The younger boy is engrossed in his work, sketching a couple of loose drawings of mermaids and shells.

 

“Drawing?” Shiro asks. Keith jumps and loudly gasps. He throws his arm over his paper.

“Been a while since you’ve drawn anything.” Shiro leans back and crosses his arms. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s for my soul mate’s birthday.” Keith mumbles. Shiro nods and picks up a piece of paper with one of Keith’s drawings on it.

“Shiro, no…” Keith whines.

“No no, it’s good, it’s cool.” He looks at the koi fish, before he picks up a paper with different types of coral and seaweed on it.

“What’s with all the marine life?”

“He’s a swimmer, and he loves the beach so…”

“Ah, I get it. So he’s turning 18 yeah?”

“Yeah,” Keith bows his head and begins to sketch some more.

“Alriiiight, legal.” Keith can hear the smirk in Shiro’s voice.

“Bro, stop.”

“Ok, ok.” He laughs.

 

Shiro takes a seat at the table and flicks through several of Keith’s discarded drawings. There’s a lot of fish, some plain, and some detailed like beautiful mandarin fish. There’s a few different species of sharks, and a decent amount of mermaids and mermen alike. Shiro casts his eyes up again to watch Keith dutifully continue to draw. He sticks his tongue out of his mouth and knits his eyebrows together in concentration.

 

“Keith?” Shiro leans his head into one of his palms. Keith hums.

“Do you ever get lonely? Do you ever wish you had friends?” He asks. There’s nothing patronizing in his tone, it’s merely a curious question. Keith frowns.

“Matt’s my friend.” He states. He then puts down his pencil and looks up with a trace of panic.

“Matt’s my friend, right?!”

“Yes, yes, don’t worry, he’s your friend.” Shiro chuckles. Keith breathes out a little sigh of relief before his attention travels back to his drawing.

“I just wondered if you maybe needed some friends your own age. Or at least… more than you have now.”

“I’m fine, Shiro.” Keith rolls his eyes. “I’m better than I have been in a long time.”

“I know.” Shiro pouts. “I still worry about you though.”

“Well don’t. Now help me make a choice…” Keith flips two images around to face Shiro.

“Now do you think I should draw a more traditional mer _maid_? Or to represent how gay I am, should I go with the mer _man_?”

 

…

 

Keith continues to work on his soul mate’s gift throughout the following days. It’s nice to have a project to put his attention and energy towards, and Keith is surprised at how much fun he is having. He plays with different compositions and motifs. He thinks about creating a traditional Japanese koi fish tattoo, but ends up deciding to go with a more contemporary style. He creates a design with a merman, but instead of the traditional sleek tail, it has spines coming off of it like a lionfish. He lounges against a rock with a come hither look, and there is coral in the foreground and shark silhouettes in the background.

 

Creating the design is the easy part. Now Keith agonises over colouring for days.

“Bro! Give me your leg!” He demands, stumbling into Shiro’s bedroom late at night.

“My what?” Shiro stutters, but Keith is already dumping a crate of art supplies onto his sheets.

“I need to practice colouring but I can’t draw on myself or else he’ll see. So I need your body.” Keith explains like it’s obvious. Shiro rubs his temples. He flops back on the mattress with a groan.

“Fine, fine, but don’t use anything toxic.”

“Of course not.”

 

Keith tests a variety of mediums from watercolours, professional body paint, primary school markers, expensive copic makers, and even some makeup. Shiro dutifully lays still and doesn’t question anything. Keith hums to himself as he works and it makes Shiro smile.

 

…

 

_It’s my birthday tomorrow!_

_I know. Hurry up and go to sleep so I can get to work._

_Fine! Fine. AUGH I’M SO EXCITED_

_Seriously if you don’t like it please tell me_

_You shut your face. I’ll love it._

_Alright, alright._

_Night, babe_

_Night soul mate._

…

 

Lance is giddy when he wakes up in the morning. He slept in just his briefs, so when his alarm goes off, he whips off his blankets in a rush and immediately looks at his legs. He sees a large dark patch on his thigh and leans forward with anticipation. It’s hard to make out in the dim light, but Lance smiles when he sees the deep wash of blue that fades out into his skin. He beams at the bright greens and pinks and the delicate lines. He skips to the bathroom.

 

He squeals when he sees it in the mirror properly. Interestingly enough, the drawing is oriented so that it points towards Lance. He chuckles when he imagines his soul mate attempting to draw it upside down, but finding it too difficult. That’s ok, this way Lance can admire it every time he looks down.

 

He beams at the beautiful colours of the merman’s tale and lets out an excited gasp when he sees the sharks. The more he looks at it, the more he sees.

 

_I love it! It’s so phenomenal and perfect! I can’t wait to show it off!_ Lance scrawls on his arm.

 

_It’s really ok?_

 

Lance is surprised at the quick reply. His soul mate should still be asleep, but he wonders if he was up waiting for Lance’s reaction.

 

_Yes! It’s wonderful! You’re wonderful! <3 _ Lance draws several hearts.

 

_I’m glad you like it. Happy Birthday soul mate. Now go kick some ass at your swim meet_

_I will! They won’t know what hit them! Wish me luck!_

_Good luck sweetheart_

Lance’s stomach flips.

 

_Thanks babe <3_

…

 

Lance struts confidently to the marshaling area in his speedos like he’s walking down a runway. The sun is hot, but he is looking hotter. He wears his brand new Ray ban sunglasses (a gift from his brother, thank you very much Tony.) and tosses a small towel casually over his neck.

 

“Alright guys, never fear, Lance is here to humiliate those other clubs.” He smirks. Allura beams at him.

“Excellent! Your freestyle race is up first, then we’ll be…” She trails off. Her eyes dart to Lance’s thigh.

“What is that?” She bluntly points at it.

“You like it?” Lance plonks his entire leg up onto Pidge’s time keeping table. She squawks as swimmer’s ribbons and timetables are covered by Lance’s long leg.

“It’s temporary, I promise. It’s my good luck charm!” Lance explains. Allura looks at it closer. Even Pidge seems curious as she stands up from her post to get a better angle.

“It’s beautiful.” Allura comments. “It looks like a painting.” She smiles.

“Is this supposed to be you?” Pidge points at the merman. He’s slim with short, brown hair, but that’s where most of the similarities stop.

“I dunno.” Lance laughs. “Maybe? I didn’t ask.”

“Well I appreciate your spirit, Lance.” Allura claps him on the shoulder. “I’m just worried about you getting in trouble. We are a Garrison run event, and students aren’t supposed to-“

“UH UH! NO WAY!” Lance slams his leg down and holds up his hands. He thumps his fist against his chest.

“It’s my birthday! I’m 18 years old! I have a rad tattoo from my hot boyfriend! No fucking teacher can _touch_ me today!”

 

Lance snatches his timetable and stomps towards the smaller pool to warm up.

 

“Boyfriend?” Pidge and Allura look to each other for an explanation.

 

…

 

After annihilating his completion, and with a belly full of cake, Lance is thankful for the quiet of the evening. He’s spent the entire day being spoilt rotten by his friends and family, but he can only take so many hugs and waggling eyebrows while someone mutters “Ah 18, so legal now huh?”. He beams at his leg again before he starts to write.

 

_“It’s beautiful!” “Yo dude, that’s a dope tat” “Whoa it looks like a watercolour painting!” “Who did it? Could they design a tat for me?” “The merman is hot. Is it supposed to be you?”_

_I mean you would get a tattoo of yourself_

_Mmmm only if you’re there too. Also these are all the lovely things that people said about your art today. Would you like to hear more?_

_Oh jeez_

_“Wow it really suits you?” “Why is it upside down? Is that so you can admire it the most? That’s really cute.” “I really like that merman. I’ve never seen one like that before.” “I want a Disney movie about this merman.” “Wow! It really looks like water!”_

_Stop! Stop! I’m getting flustered._

_Good_

Lance laughs and rolls onto his stomach. When he lies like this it feels more intimate somehow. Maybe because he’s so loose and relaxed, and he pulls his arm mere inches away from his face.

 

_Babe, thank you so much. This was more than I could possibly have expected._

Lance chews on the end of his marker. It’s well worn now, and he thinks it really needs replacing by this point. He’s shocked it still has ink in it.

 

_Babe I don’t wanna push you into anything. You do what you want to do, but if you’re not going into art because you don’t think you’re good enough? Well I’m here to tell you that you are 110% good enough. I hope this let you see how amazing you are._

Lance sighs. There’s a bit of a pause, but he doesn’t stress. He meant what he said, and if he came across as too serious or heavy handed? He doesn’t care. His soul mate needed to hear it, even if the difficult subject matter makes him uncomfortable. He’s improving, but he knows that compliments are still difficult. Lance hums and closes his eyes. They sting still from chlorine.

 

_Thank you very much. That’s… a lot to take in._

_Are you ok?_

_Yeah, yeah I am :) And I really did have so much fun planning this for you. I didn’t expect to enjoy it, but I really did. It was hard but I liked it!_

_Yay!_

Lance is elated. He sits up onto his elbows.

 

_I dunno if it’s because I liked drawing, or I just like doing things for you._

_Both?_

_I dunno. But I know that I love doing things for you… which is why… I might have gotten you another gift._

Lance shoots straight up. He presses his hands to his cheeks and stares wide eyed at the wall. _More?!_ He feels like his heart can’t bear it.

 

_WHAT!_

_Now look if you don’t want it that’s fine. You don’t have to do anything. I’ve just been thinking about it a lot and I want you to have it._

Lance’s mind is churning at an alarming rate. What on earth could it be?

 

_It’s ok. If it’s from you, I know I’ll love it._

 

His heart is in his throat.

 

_Ok but don’t freak out._

_573-8245-4003_

Lance falls off of his bed.

“WHAT?! WHAT?!” He screeches on the floor as he wildly kicks his legs into the air.

“ARE YOU MCFUCKING KIDDING ME?!” He tugs at his hair and manages to clamber onto his feet. He dives for his marker.

 

_IS THIS YOUR FUCKING PHONE NUMBER?_

_Yeah_

“FUCK!” Lance throws himself backwards and covers his face with a pillow. He screams. When his throat is raw, he dares to grab his marker again. He can’t believe this. He can’t _fucking_ believe this.

 

_I LOVE IT! THIS IS THE BEST! HOLY SHIT!_  
  


He swallows but the spit in his mouth just won’t go away. He’s so thrilled, but also pissed off because how _dare_ his soul mate out courage and romance him!

 

_I thought about giving you my skype but that just gave me heart palpitations! I had panics just thinking about it! I can’t believe you’re braver than me._

_Oh no skype is too much! I would die. I’m sorry!_

_Don’t be, don’t be._

Lance looks at the numbers again and a relieved laugh bubbles from his chest. He recognizes this number pattern.

 

_Your number is one from my country. That means we live in the same country! The same state even! I’m so happy and freaking out!_

_You don’t have to call or do anything with it if you’re not ready. I just wanted you to have it._

_Bitch shut the fuck up I’m calling you before I lose my nerve._

And Lance slams the numbers into his phone and hits the call button before he can second-guess himself. It’s only on the third ring that his actions finally come crashing into him. _Holy shit what was he doing?_

But it’s too late. On the fourth ring there is a click and then the distinctive noise of someone breathing on the other side.

 

For the first time in Lance’s life, he is stunned into silence. He opens his mouth but only air comes out. After several seconds of struggled frustration… he starts laughing. Laughing at the ridiculousness of all this. Laughing at the irony that Lance can talk to complete strangers about nothing on the bus, but can’t even say hi to the boy he’s in love with. He laughs at his patheticness, but also at what an amazing opportunity he’s been given.

 

There’s laughter on the other side and Lance finally starts to loosen. He pulls his knees up to his chest and tenderly cradles his phone. He bites his bottom lip and widely smiles.

 

“Hey babe,” He softly greets. There’s a strangled noise on the other end of the receiver.

“God, go easy on me. I just got the biggest butterflies.”

Lance gasps. It’s a voice. Deep and a bit rough. He’s ashamed at how the low tones go straight to his groin. He breathes deeply.

“Holy shit,” He laughs.

“I know. This is…”

“Wow, uh-” Lance sniffs. His voice becomes thick with emotion.

“Are you ok?” His soul mate sounds quiet and concerned, and that only makes Lance feel more overwhelmed.

“You’re real.” Lance splutters. He wipes his eyes. When had he started crying?

“Yeah. You too.” The other boy laughs. It’s a small noise in his chest.

“Sorry you just… you have a voice and…and…like you’re there! I was sure, but then part of me still wondered if maybe I was just crazy, or if this was some weird-“

“Aliens. I thought aliens.” His soul mate interrupts. Lance laughs louder and his pulse starts to slow. He sniffs, but thankfully his tears are drying. His voice returns to where it usually sits.

“But you’re there.” He sighs.

“Yeah… you too.” And Lance is sure that he is smiling.

“Thank you so much for not being a voice in my head. I think I would have lost my mind if that was the way our soul link manifested.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Did you hear about that one couple who could like feel each other’s pain? How fucked is that?! You wouldn’t even figure it out, you would just think you had a tumor! Or that couple who would swap bodies? Which sounds cool, but then you’ve seen your partner naked already, so your first time would just be weird? Like ‘ah yeah, this is cool, but I’ve masturbated this body, so whatever’. Like in hindsight I think we got really lucky and…” Lance becomes self-aware. He groans and rubs his face.

“Sorry, sorry, I ramble when I’m nervous. And I’m… crazy nervous right now.” He laughs.

“It’s fine. Really.” And Lance believes him. “You have a nice voice.” Lance flushes.

“Yeah you too.”

Lance and his soul mate laugh again. His entire mind has gone blank.

“I’m so sorry babe, I’m just really overwhelmed by all this and I don't know if I can talk much longer.”

“Me neither.” The boy laughs. “I’m shaking so much it’s insane. I had to put you on speaker because I couldn’t even hold my phone.”

“That actually makes me feel-“

 

“Oi! What was that screaming all about?” Lance’s mum bursts through his door. Lance fumbles with his phone, but thankfully catches it. His eyes are wide and he frantically waves her away

“Mama! ¡Nada! Estoy bien! Me paré en un lego.” Lance hisses.

“Bien, bien, iré.” His mother groans

“Buenas noches.” Lance softens.

“Dulces sueños. Feliz cumpleaños!” She blows him a kiss and exits the room. Lance sighs and flops onto his back when his door clicks closed.

 

“Sorry about that.” He laughs.

“You uh…” His soul mate squeaks. “You speak Spanish?”

“Oh yeah. I’m Cuban. Did I not mention that?”

“Oh…um … oh fuck…” He laughs. Lance listens in disbelief.

“What is this? What is this reaction?”

“Nothing! Nothing!” There’s an awkward cough and more laughter.

“Did I just get hotter to you?” Lance teases.

“Mi alma gemela~” He purrs. He laughs when he hears he soul mate splutter on the other side.

“Fuck, shit, don’t do that” He hisses. “I’m not ready for that. It was just really cute, ok?”

Lance chuckles. He files this bit of information for use at a later date, but for now he thinks he should leave before he can do anything horribly embarrassing.

“Ok, ok, listen I do really need to go. Because I feel like I might pass out.”

“ _You_ might pass out.” His soul mate scoffs. “It’s ok. Me too. I almost passed out then, so I think I need to lie down.”

“God,”

“Ok I need to go. This is getting bad. I’m completely losing it.”

And Lance has to admit that he finds it endearing how this formerly cool and calm voice is stuttering and squeaking all over the place.

“It’s ok. Alright, babe. Goodnight. Thank you again for my…” Lance sighs. “Really amazing gifts. You made this day so perfect and amazing.”

“It’s fine. I’m glad they made you happy.”

 

They stop and just listen to the sound of the other person breathing. Lance knows he needs to hang up, but it’s a struggle. He wishes he could ask his soul mate to keep talking as he falls asleep, but that sounds ridiculous.

 

“Happy birthday,” The other boy breaks the silence.

“Sweet dreams, babe.”

 

And then there’s a dial tone.

 

Lance’s room is suffocatingly silent. Lance tries to drown it out by drawing blue hearts on his wrist. Red hearts appear along with a message.

 

_Thank you. You sound really cute._

Lance almost dies.

 

…

 

They don’t call each other again, at least… not yet. The experience is so weirdly powerful that both boys admit they probably couldn’t handle it again so soon. Keith had been exhausted afterwards and he realized his breathing was incredibly shallow. He couldn’t stop trembling.

 

_Should we text?_

_Fuck that._

Keith laughs.

 

_I can talk to anyone with texting. I can only talk to you like this._

_If we text then I become just a guy. That’s what you’re feeling?_

_God you’ll never be just a guy but… I dunno. This is special… I like it. I like that something I do here… affects you over there. Does that make sense?_

_Yeah yeah it does. It’s ok. I feel the same way._

_Haha we can work up to it. Maybe exchange photos?_

_God, not yet. I know you’re hot, I can just tell. I’ll fucking die. I can still hear your voice._

_Haha gaaaaaay_

_Oi_

_But me too. You’re voice is so low and sexy wtf. I think I got hard just listening to you._

_WOW_

_Oh come on, like you didn’t almost ruin your shorts when I started speaking Spanish._

_WOW WOW OK HO BOY! GOTTA GO!_

_Aw c’mon_

_LMAO BYE_

_Babe! No I’m freaking out now_

_You’re fine. I do have to go though._

_What could be more important than discussing how much I arouse you?_

_I’m looking at art school applications_

_BABE! WHAT?! REALLY?! :D_

_Yeah I guess you got to me._

_Holy shit ok ok I’ll go!_

_Haha ok_

_Byeeee <3_

Even though Keith was starting to feel a bit awkward, he isn’t lying. He has several art school applications on his computer and is casually… very loosely sketching on the table in the attempt to start building up a portfolio. Keith isn’t getting his hopes up… or at least that’s what he tells himself.

 

He’s decided to do his best. Build a portfolio, submit it, and then see what happens. If he get’s accepted anywhere? Cool, he’ll deal with that when it happens, but if he doesn’t? Well… then there’s really no harm done. He never thought of art as a career before, so why would he think of it now? This should be relaxing… right?

 

Keith is trying to not put too much pressure on himself. He’s trying to just have fun with it, but he’s feeling the stress and excitement mount. He draws his soul mate’s tattoo design on some watercolour paper and paints it. Funnily enough, he thinks it looked better on his skin, but he’s still happy with it.

 

He does several self portraits because he’s gotten so used to drawing himself for his soul mate that he feels quite comfortable doing it now. He draws several cartoony looking surfer bros with bright smiles and brighter sunglasses. He intends to pass them off as character studies. The professors don’t need to know that they’re all him perplexing over what his soul mate looks like.

 

He’s colouring several of the surfer beach scenes with gouache when Shiro starts snooping through his papers.

“Oh wow,” He picks up several of the still drying pieces of paper. Keith glares at him.

“This is really beautiful. Very cute. I could see these on postcards or something.” Shiro oohs and ahs.

“Thanks.”

“Wow, really nice, very nice…” He sets the drawings down. He places his hands on his hips and surveys the whole table, his eyes roaming between sketches and completed paintings.

“Very nice, very nice.” He stops. With a short exhale, he claps his hands together.

“Alright! Pack this shit up!” He announces.

 

Keith looks up mid-inking with a scowl.

“What?”

“We’re having company over tomorrow night so we need to clean this place up.” Shiro smiles. There’s an excitement to his voice. Keith snorts.

“Matt isn’t company.”

“It’s not _just_ Matt.” Shiro starts to pick up the empty drink cans that have been left around the place.

“We don’t need to impress your tutor friends either. I’ve seen how they live. It’s way worse than this.” Keith shudders when he remembers the mould encrusted pizza boxes.

“It’s not work people. It’s Matt’s sister and her friends.” Shiro calls over his shoulder.

 

Keith drops his brush and abruptly stands. His eyes are wide and his nerves are all wound tight.

“What?” He barks. “Why are we having a bunch of 14 year olds over?” He eyes his brother like he’s lost his mind. Shiro continues to happily pick up dirty dishes off the coffee table.

 

“ _She’s_ 14, but her two friends are both around 18.” Shiro walks to the kitchen with a smirk. “They’re your age.”

“I don’t understand, why are we-“ But then, like a train crash, Keith abruptly, painfully, understands. His thin frame is filled with humiliation and rage.

 

“YOU’VE SET UP A PLAY DATE! THAT’S WHAT THIS IS!” He tugs at his hair and seethes. “This is a play date you’ve set up because ‘poor Keith can’t make friends’! No!” He crosses his arms over his chest. He’s retreating into himself. Shiro knows how to read the signs and immediately hurries over.

“Keith,” He coos.

“I don’t want any part of it! I won’t be pitied!” He blinks back tears. “I…I said I was fine! I don’t need _you_ or Matt or anyone else to-“ He jerks out of Shiro’s hold, but Shiro follows. He places his hands on his shoulders.

“Keith, Keith, I’m not…” But Shiro has to sigh. Keith is right. He does pity him. He worries that he’s lonely and has no support system. He worries that Keith bottles up whatever feelings he’s unable to share with himself and just never processes them. Shiro has been… relieved at how Keith has reacted to having a soul mate. Honestly, he’s been shocked at the transformation. Keith smiles more and he has a drive again. He laughs. Actually laughs, and has opened up to someone.

 

If Keith could change this much from just some anonymous messages, than how much could a real friend impact him?

 

“I’m sorry.” Shiro admits. He knows he should have consulted Keith before this.

“I guess… I saw how much you’ve really opened up and enjoyed yourself with your soul mate…” He rubs his face. “I thought that… if you could make a friend or two… things could only get even better.”

“But Shiro, I’m not good with other people. Like there’s a reason I’ve never had friends…” Keith has trouble getting the words out. It feels like there’s an obstruction in his throat.

“You couldn’t make friends because the kids at that school were assholes!”

 

Keith freezes. Shiro rarely raises his voice and it’s almost never at other people.

“I failed you by sending you to that school. I thought it was the best thing for you. You were smart and they had the best programs, but I just…” He flops into the dining chair. He keeps his gaze down so Keith can’t see his expression. Can’t see the shame and guilt that he carries with him every time Keith gets anxious in a crowd, or stays home from some event where he’ll be forced to met new people. Shiro’s guilt spikes every time he comes home to find Keith listless on the couch. Expelled from school and his permanent record tainted, so he would have difficulty getting in anywhere else. No prospects, no ambition, Shiro hadn’t improved his life much at all.

 

“I just want to make things right for you again.”

Keith glimpses how hard these past few years have been not just for himself, but for his brother as well. Carrying the burden of brother and parent has been difficult. Keith softens. He cards his fingers through his brother’s undercut.

“You’ve made things more right for me than I could have ever possibly imagined.” He sighs. “You didn’t fail me. Shut the fuck up.” He flicks his ear. Shiro flinches.

“They’re really nice, Keith.” Shiro grabs his wrists. “I promise. It won’t be like last time.”

“How do you know?” Keith sighs. He steps back. “How do you know? Have you met them?”

“Matt vouches for them.”

Keith scoffs.

“And!” Shiro raises his voice purposefully. “There’s a reason that 14 year old Katie is friends with two 18 year old boys.” Shiro explains. Keith cocks his head with interest. He waits.

“When Katie started transitioning, of course lots of kids didn’t know how to handle it. Like... what do you mean their friend was a girl now? Things started looking bad, but these two guys… Matt says she barely even knew them,” Shiro laughs.

“He says she _kind of_ knew one from robotics club, but had never seen the other one ever in her life. Anyway!” Shiro gets back to his train of thought. “They stepped in and stood up for her. Sat with her at lunch so she wasn’t alone, and invited her to the movies and stuff.”

Keith chews his bottom lip in thought.

“They’re good guys. I trust Matt. Just meet them.”

 

“Fine.”

 

…

 

“Hey,” Pidge speaks up as the trio lounges beneath the shade of an oak tree. Hunk and Lance have come from a particularly draining chemistry lab and are trying to relax before they have to go to a physics lab after the break. The sun is warm, but the grass is cool. The shade above them is dense and the area around them is miraculously clear of anyone kicking soccer or footballs around.

 

“You guys wanna come to Matt’s friend’s place with me tomorrow night?”

Lance and Hunk crack open an eye. Hunk rests his head on his arms, whilst Lance uses Hunk’s stomach as a pillow.

“Will there be pizza?” They both ask.

“Yeah.”

“Ok.” They shrug, then try to resume their nap.

“You guys gotta look nice. Be ready by 6:30 so I can pick you up.”

Lance hums, but Hunk snores underneath him.

 

…

 

_Hey wanna hear something really humiliating?_

_Do tell._

_My brother has organized a blind play date for me. Like he’s invited some teens over to our house… in the hopes that I will befriend one._

_Yikes. Oh man. Does he know them?_

_NOPE! Friends of friends thing._

_Oh man. Oh man. Ok. You gotta think positive._

_I’m trying!_

_When is this going down?_

_Tomorrow._

_Shiiiiiiiit._

_What?_

_Listen babe. I know you can do this. You’re cute and sweet and nice, I know you can get through this. Unfortunately I’ll be at a friend’s place tomorrow so I won’t be able to message you while this is happening. I don’t know the hosts so I can’t startle them by having messages appear on me. I promise I will message before bed to see if you’re ok._

_No, no I get it. I can’t exactly message you in front of them either. I can’t look like an even bigger weirdo._

_You’re not a weirdo. You’re lovely <3_

_MMMMMMMM ok. Anyway what’s this thing you’re going to?_

_I dunno. Some gathering I was invited to?_

_And you don’t know the host?_

_Nah. I don’t know who will be there._

_And you’re feeling…?_

_Excited? Hoping to make new friends?_

_God I wish that were me. How are you real?_

_Sorry! Sorry._

_No it’s ok. Maybe your positive attitude will rub off on me._

_You know it! Whoo those teens! Karate chop some boards in front of them! Toss your sexy mullet in their faces!_

_It’s not a mullet!_

_It is! But it’s cute so I’ll accept it!_

…

 

“This is what you’re wearing?” Hunk, in his button up and slacks gestures to Lance. Lance… in a tank top and black skinny jeans… and snap back. The arm holes of his tank top are extra large so that his ribs and sides of his chest are visible. Lance scoffs.

“Um, I look fantastic, so back off?” He shrugs.

“You look like a frat boy.”

“Actually I look like the expensive frat boy who fucks the goth kid. Get it right.” He moves past Hunk to go through the front door and wait on the porch. Hunk follows.

“I guess it’s a memorable first impression.” He chuckles.

“Hunk, baby,” Lance pats his arm. “With a smile like this I could show up in a potato sack.” And he beams. Hunk imagines a sparkle coming off of his teeth.

“You’re the worst.” He lightly shoves his friend.

 

A white sedan pulls up shortly later. An older boy, who looks remarkably like Pidge, waves from the driver’s seat. Pidge sticks her head out of the window.

“Get in you fucks we’re late!”

Hunk and Lance clamber into the back seat.

 

“Matt it’s been ages, how are you?” Hunk politely makes conversation as they pull away from Lance’s house. Lance rummages in his pocket for his phone and shoots his mother a text to say that he’s left.

“Oh well I’m editing my thesis draft, so you know…every moment I prey for the sweet relief of death and genuinely ponder how I can get away with burning down my entire school…” Matt says in one effortless breath.

“But yeah alright. You guys?”

Hunk and Lance exchange nervous glances.

“Yeah man,”

“We’re fine.”

“Cool, cool, great to hear.”

 

They take the rest of the ride in comfortable silence. Pidge plugs in her phone and blares some 90’s boy bands because she knows it will get Lance and Hunk in a good mood. Lance tries his best to do the choreography in his seated position.

 

“Hey, so…” Matt turns down the volume right in the middle of a chorus. Lance is flabbergasted and makes drowning noises in the middle of his dancing.

“Hang on, stop pouting, I’m telling you guys important stuff.” Matt laughs.

“The person’s house we’re going to tonight is my good friend Shiro’s. I know him from the university. He’s really cool, and I love him, so treat his place with respect you little gremlins.” Matt warns.

“You literally stopped at his house once just to take a shit because you didn’t think you’d make it home.” Pidge glares. Hunk tries to suppress his giggles, whilst Lance loses all professionalism and just cackles. Matt turns red.

“N…Nevermind!” He stutters. “Do as I say! Not as I do! Anyway!” Matt clears his throat.

“Shiro is 25 and an adult, so treat him as such. He also has a little brother called Keith. Keith is 19. He’s a bit rough, but he’s a good kid. Kind of awkward, especially around new people, so be nice.” Matt looks in his reverse mirror.

“Lance! Repeat what I just said.”

“Wha? Buh…EXCUSE…?” Lance blusters. “Why are you picking on me?!” He squeaks.

“Because Hunk is a sensitive teddy bear who is incapable of hurting anyone.” Pidge turns and explains.

“That’s true, I am in tune with the feelings of others.” He nods.

“I’m nice! I’m sympathetic! Kids love me!” Lance shrieks. “What is this-?!”

“Keith is hot! And Lance-!” Matt makes pointed eye contact with Lance via his reverse mirror.

“You get fucking weird around hot guys! Don’t get weird! Don’t pick fights because you can’t handle what your dick is saying! Just be cool, ok?”

“I DON’T GET WEIRD!”

The entire car groans. Never has Lance felt so victimized.

 

“I’ll behave! I promise!”

 

…

 

“Sounds like they’re here.” Shiro peers through the blinds at the sound of gravel crunching. Keith sits in a permanent state of fight or flight on the couch. Tight and panicked. He’s shoved his hair into a ponytail because it felt like it was suffocating him. He’s in a dark shirt and dark jeans. He’s not confident enough to match colours, but black matches black yeah? His eyes dart towards the door at the sound of approaching footsteps.

 

“Give me your hat.”

“What?! No!”

“You look like an asshole, give me your hat.”

“Hunk!”

 

Voices are heard squabbling on the other side of the door. Keith actually smirks a bit at this exchange. All fears flood back into him though when someone knocks.

 

Shiro waves Keith to come over. Keith violently shakes his head. Shiro waves more frantically, but Keith just digs his nails deeper into the couch.

“Keith, it’ll…” Shiro whispers.

“Shiro the knock was to be polite, you gave me a key to this place, remember?” Matt’s voice teases. Shiro groans. He paints on a smile and opens the door.

 

“Hey, sorry, I was just getting something. Hi!” Apparently Shiro is also nervous. He steps to the side and lets Matt walk through. Matt gives him a fist bump, before he struts through the room like he owns the place. He’s soon at the couch and tousling Keith’s hair.

“Ponytail, cute.” He smirks.

“Don’t!” Keith hisses as he tries to fix his messed up fringe. Matt laughs and throws his feet on the coffee table.

 

“Hey Katie, I’m Shiro. We’ve met at least once I’m sure.” Shiro chuckles. “And you’ve met Keith, yeah?” He gestures over his shoulder to where Keith and Matt sit. Keith does recognize the small girl from a handful of interactions. Trapped at the university at various times, or a graduation here or there. She holds up a hand.

“Yeah. Hey man.” She casually nods her head. Keith nods back.

“Hey,” Oh god, is that what his voice sounds like?

 

A stranger now walks through the door. He’s a large boy, (18? Really?) with dark skin and a square jaw. Keith would actually be interested to see an arm wrestling match between him and Shiro… and he’s not sure that Shiro would win. The boy wears what Keith assumes is the infamous hat, and stands at Shiro’s height as he shakes his hand. Shiro blinks at him for a moment, seemingly just as surprised by his presence.

“Hey, I’m Hunk.” The boy introduces himself. Shiro remembers what he’s doing and shakes his hand back with a smile.

“Shiro. Hi, Matt’s told me about you. And this must be…” Shiro looks past Hunk to see the last person come through the door.

 

He’s tall and slim with glowing, tan skin. His short brown hair looks feathery soft, and his legs appear to go for miles. His smile is astonishingly bright.

 

Ok… Keith might get off the couch for this kid.

 

Keith clambers to his feet and tries his best to look natural in his own home. He’s barely breathing when he mumbles his name to Hunk and Hunk almost crushes his fingers in a friendly handshake. Keith then turns robotically to the new boy.

 

“Hey, I’m Lance. Wow, your hair’s great. Mine’s awful because Hunk took my hat so now I have hat hair, but nothing to show for it.” He laughs. Keith dies.

“Keith.” Is all he manages to wheeze out when they shake hands. Lance doesn’t comment though. Instead he moves to walk towards the couches where Hunk, Matt and Pidge have set up.

“You ok so far?” Shiro mumbles as he walks past. Keith nods.

“Alright, let’s go hang out.” And he puts his hand on Keith’s shoulder, partially to support him, partially to prevent him from running and hiding in his room.

 

“What’s on the agenda?” Pidge asks. She’s already found of bag of chips that Keith has no memory of setting out.

“Video games?” Matt offers. He looks to Keith and Shiro. Keith nervously perches himself on the end of the couch between Lance and his brother.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Shiro shrugs.

“What’s in your arsenal?” Lance leans towards Keith with a smirk. Keith’s mind goes blank.

“M…my what?”

“What games do you have?” He laughs. Keith is again stunned at the sight of that smile. And collarbones… and cleavage… wow ok, so Lance might be the prettiest guy Keith has ever seen and it is not helping his nerves at all.

 

“I like fighting games.” Keith blurts. Lance nods.

“Cool, cool, what do you have?”

“Uh like… Street fighter, and Marvel vs Capcom. Some silly indie things, uhhhh, smash bros, then-“

“Whoa, you got smash bros!” Lance interrupts him. Keith nods.

“That’s my game, man!” Lance starts poking Pidge in the back where she sits on the floor.

“Oi! Keith says they have smash bros! Hook it up and toss me a controller.”

“Oooooooh,” Hunk leans forward. “Who are you going to play?”

Pidge tosses up two controllers. Lance passes one to Keith.

“You up for it?” He offers.

Keith wordlessly takes it and nods.

 

The starting menu plays and Keith and Lance select their characters. Lance makes a beeline straight for Samus, whilst Keith thinks a bit before choosing Shulk. Matt goes to join, but Hunk leans over to him.

“Listen, you really don’t want to get in on this.” He warns. Matt looks skeptical.

“Keith is good, but I’ve played with him before.”

“I’m not warning you about Keith.”

Matt looks over at his little sister. She very solemnly shakes her head at him. He puts down his controller.

 

They choose a stage and wait for the starting timer.

“So Keith,” Lance’s friendly grin morphs into something more sinister. “Would you prefer to be cremated or buried after I murder you this evening?”

“Wha…?”

But Keith barely has a second to react before his character is flung off the stage. A shocked laugh escapes him. His nerves start to calm down as another primal emotion begins to take its place. Competitiveness.

“Oh ok. So that’s how we’re doing it.” He exhales and leans forward in his seat.

“Let’s see if you can touch me this time”, Lance laughs.

 

…

 

Keith’s anxiety disappears in a bout of swearing, yelling at his controller and frustrated grunting. Lance has beaten him for the sixth time.

“I don’t understand!” He throws himself on the floor. “I’m really good at this, I SWEAR!”

“Oh I believe you. You’ve lasted longer than almost everyone.” Lance peers down at him with that infuriatingly cute smirk.

“DO NOT MOCK ME!”

“Keith, seriously, Lance has won tournaments before. The challenge is not to beat him, but to survive long enough that you might actually get to play.” Hunk explains. Keith groans.

 

“Play me in Soul Calibur!” He demands.

“Alright,” Lance shrugs.

Keith slams in the new game and tosses Lance the controller.

“You’re really worked up,” Shiro laughs.

“Shut up,” Keith hisses. This just makes him laugh more.

“I’m sorry Lance, but I have to beat you in this. My pride is on the line.” Keith explains. He runs his fingers through his long fringe. Lance watches the movement with great interest.

“I get it, but I’ve never played this, so it won’t be an honorable defeat.” He leans comfortably back on the couch.

“I honestly don’t care at this point.” Keith chuckles. They choose their characters and Keith lets Lance choose an arena.

“This one has less spikes,” Lance observes as he hits x.

 

The fight starts and Lance is KOed before he even touches his controller. Keith falls back with a huge sigh of relief.

“Was it good for you?” Lance teases. Keith blushes and quietly picks a new stage.

“D…do you wanna play again? You’ve never played, so I’ll teach you how if you want.” His quiet personality is back and Lance smiles wider. He nods.

“Sure, Keith. Show me how it’s done.”

 

…

 

Keith walks Lance through the controls and some of the easier combos. Lance laughs brightly when he manages to land a super attack. Keith passes his controller to Pidge who plays a few rounds against Lance.

 

They cycle through several games. It turns out that Lance is also supernaturally gifted at Mario kart, but at least he doesn’t beat everyone by as large a margin. Shiro and Matt scream over Rocket League, before Hunk gets excited and pulls out the pieces for Rockband.

 

“Shotgun drums!” He claims. He automatically tosses the mic to Lance, then offers Keith the guitar.

“Wanna be in our sweet band, Keith?” He winks. Keith laughs and takes the guitar.

“Alright, but I hope you guys can keep up.” Keith presses on the keys and selects the hardest mode for himself. Lance lets out a low whistle.

“What are we doing?” Keith starts to flip through the songs. Lance almost tackles him when he scrolls past Journey’s _Anyway you want it._

“JOURNEY! JOURNEY! JOURNEY! That’s what we’re doing!” He rapidly points. Keith is startled into selecting the song.

“Jesus Lance, Journey is pretty hard are you sure-“

 

“ANY WANT IT! THAT’S THE WAY YOU NEED IT! ANY WAY YOU WANT IT!” Lance jumps onto the couch and launches them into the song. Keith’s fingers scramble to start picking out the main melody. Hunk smirks over on the drums and nods.

“He’s a theatre kid.” He smirks.

“Ah,” Keith laughs.

“ALL NIGHT! AAAAAALLL NIGHT! Oh every night!” Lance jumps off of the couch. He starts to dance around his band, shimmying his shoulders and tossing his head. He bumps his hips into Keith until he laughs and messes up his fingering.

“Stop!” He bumps Lance off of him.

Lance sticks his tongue out and makes his way over to Hunk for the chorus. They both lose all sense of key as they scream into the microphone. Despite his antics, Lance is actually remarkably good at singing. He skips around the room and offers his mic to Pidge. She flat out refuses, but Matt grabs it and warbles out the final line of the chorus.

 

“Alright, guitar solo! Take it Kei….Holy Shit…” Lance gasps. Keith is intensely focused on the tv as his fingers move with lightning speed. “Perfect!”s and “Excellent!”s dance across the screen.

“Hell yeah!” Lance jogs closer and stares in admiration. He claps loudly when the solo slows down.

“Keith that was crazy!” Hunk looks up from his drumming. Lance whistles before he starts to wail into the bridge. He winks at Keith and spins on his heel.

 

…

 

Shiro, Matt and Pidge perform an underwhelming version of Paramore’s _That’s what you get_ before they all call it quits. The pizza arrives and most of the group is quiet as Matt entertains them with his laptop and the internet. Keith is shocked that Lance laughs the most, even at the obscure stuff that no one but Matt himself understands. Pidge almost consumes an entire Hawaiian pizza, whilst Keith holds his lonely cheese-less pizza by himself.

 

“Keith, bro, why is your pizza naked?” Hunk looks over his slice of supreme stacked with toppings.

“I’m lactose intolerant.”

Hunk and Lance both gasp like Keith has just admitted to being terminally ill.

 

“But I brought stuff for desert! I thought we could make smores!” Hunk whines as he opens his backpack, and sure enough, it is stuffed with cookies, marshmallows and chocolate. Keith clicks his tongue.

 

“You got dark chocolate?”

“Uh huh!”

“Then I can manage.”

 

After pizza, Shiro leads everyone into the backyard. Keith grabs his leather jacket and Shiro slips on a hoodie. It’s surprisingly cool out on this cloudless night. There’s a metal barrel cut in half, and Shiro begins to fill it with dried wood. He drops a match into it and soon there is a healthy fire going. Hunk and Pidge run around the yard in search of quality marshmallow sticks. Shiro and Matt start to set up the graham crackers and chocolate. The only one not busy is Lance, who presses himself closer to the fire. He rubs his arms as goosebumps appear.

 

“Keith, take a stick,” Pidge shoves a bunch of twigs in his face. He flinches back, then picks a long one with some green still on it. Hunk passes him the bag of marshmallows and he continues to pass it around the fire until everyone has one.

 

Matt likes his marshmallows only warmed, whilst Shiro likes his well roasted.

“The secret ingredient is carbon.” He smiles as he places his black marshmallow between two pieces of chocolate. Pidge is too short to comfortably blow out her marshamallow, so she just waves it rapidly in the air hoping that that will put it out. It does work, but not without making the others nervous.

 

“Just ask Lance to blow it out,” Matt suggests.

“I don’t want you putting anything on fire _near_ my face.” Lance backs away.

“This works fine. As long as the structural-“ But Pidge’s marshmallow was more melted than she expected. With the frantic waving about, the flaming, goopy ball of sugar goes flying… and it grazes Lance’s elbow.

“MOTHER!” He shrieks and frantically rubs his elbow on his pants. The bad thing about flaming marshmallows is that they’re sticky. The molten ball of sugar sticks to Lance’s skin and he hisses as he frantically tries to rub it off.

 

“Oops.” Pidge watches helplessly.

“Hold on bro,” Hunk runs over with a bottle of water and pours it on Lance’s elbow. He hisses.

“Feel better?”

“Yeah, but now I’m wet and burned.” Lance pouts. Pidge makes him a double marshmallow smore to make him feel better. He happily munches it and all seems to be forgiven. However the goosebumps on his skin are still there, and he shivers with every breeze.

 

“You cold, Lance?” Shiro asks around a mouthful of chocolate. Lance gently laughs.

“Ah yeah a bit. It’s ok next to the fire though.” And Lance creeps forward some more. Pidge snorts.

“Lance, you’re practically _in_ the fire.”

“I told you that outfit was a bad idea.” Hunk shakes his head. “But noooo, you gotta take every opportunity to show off your body.”

“Worth it.” Lance smirks through chattering teeth.

Shiro chuckles. “Here,” and he starts to slip out of his hoodie.

“I got it,” Keith quickly rushes to Lance first and pulls off his jacket. He offers it to Lance.

“Pre-warmed, so it should feel better.”

“Won’t you be cold?”

“Nah, I’m used to it.”

And Lance can’t tell whether his cheeks are hot from the fire or the way that Keith smiles at him. He clears his throat as he gratefully takes Keith’s jacket.

“Thank you.”

 

They stay outside until all the marshmallows are gone and the front of Lance’s shirt has finally dried. He holds Keith’s jacket close and smiles at him every time they lock eyes. Keith stutters and turns back to Pidge to talk about her robotics club project.

 

…

 

When the fire is down to coals they head back inside. Shiro announces that he’ll make hot chocolate for everyone.

“Keith, come help.” He orders.

“What? Aw man,” And Keith toddles after him.

“Wait,” Lance catches his wrist. Keith whirls around with wide eyes. Lance holds his jacket out to him.

“Thanks for this. I don’t need it any more if we’re staying inside.” He smiles. Keith wordlessly takes it and proceeds to the kitchen. His jacket now smells… like coconut. What kind of aftershave did this boy use?

 

Keith starts to crush pizza boxes as Shiro pulls mugs down from the cupboards. He places two saucepans of milk, one soy and one not, onto the stovetop and waits. Keith leans next to him and lets out a long breath. He feels exhausted.

 

“I’m going to suggest that people can stay the night. You ok with that?” Shiro speaks quietly. Keith nods. He’s appreciating the quiet moment away from stranger’s glances.

“You can uh…” Shiro begins to spoon hot chocolate into the mugs. “Have Lance in your room if you want.”

Keith cracks open an eye.

“What are you suggesting?”

“I-I’m just saying, that you twooooo really seem to be hitting it off! Maybeeee-“

“Shiro!” Keith hisses and holds up his hand with the two little hearts on it. “I am _involved_ with someone!”

“Ok, ok.” And Shiro winces as Keith slaps him in the arm.

 

…

 

“Hey, Lance! Buddy! You’re doing great! Keith really seems to like you.” Matt claps Lance on his shoulder and leans into him. His breath smells a little like beer.

“I told you you had nothing to worry about!” Lance throws his hands up. “I! Am a perfect gentleman.” And he gives a little bow.

“Maybe you’re just not as attracted to Keith as we thought?” Pidge offers. Lance’s eyes widen maniacally and he laughs for a long time.

“NOPE! That’s definitely not it.” He wheezes.

Because holy shit did he almost faint when Keith had offered him that jacket. And the fact it was still warm? Lance hates how that had made his heart skip a beat.

 

God, he’s so weak for pretty boys. Especially for this dark-haired boy with long lashes. God, why did he look so much like his fantasy image of his soul mate?

 

…

 

Shiro and Keith emerge with steaming mugs and hand them out to the group. Keith and Lance graze fingers, though neither of them mentions it.

 

“Hey, so Keith and I were just talking and we’re totally fine if you guys wanna stay the night. It’s Saturday tomorrow so we have nowhere to be. And Keith and I both have double beds, and there’s obviously the couch too.”

“And sleeping bags.” Keith adds.

Hunk and Lance both exchange looks. It was late, and they really are in no hurry to go home.

“Yeah, alright.” They reply in unison.

“Shotgun Shiro’s bed!” Matt throws his arm up. Shiro rolls his eyes.

“Couch is mine!” Pidge follows.

“Lance, you can crash with Keith then.” She smirks, wide and knowing. Keith sheepishly smiles. Lance looks frantically between the two of them.

 

“OH! Uh…” His voice jumps up an octave. “I think I’d be more comfortable on the floor?” He wrings his hands together. “Sorry! It’s nothing personal! I just kind of have a boyfriend, so I would feel weird-“

“I wasn’t suggesting-“ Keith emphatically holds his hands out.

“No! I know you weren’t!” Lance reassures. Both boys are practically glowing red.

“Sorry,” Lance rubs the back of his neck and laughs. “We’re just kind of long distance, so sleeping with another guy even in a platonic sense-“

“It’s ok.” Keith nods. “I totally get it.”

 

Keith understands, completely. And he would feel weird sleeping next to someone as attractive as Lance as well. But he still lets out a small sigh of disappointment. It’s just a fluttering in his chest.

_The hot ones are always taken._ He chuckles.

 

“I’ll stay on the floor with Lance.” Hunk claps his friend’s shoulder. “Can’t be ditching my buddy. But we can all stay in your room, Keith.”

“Yeah, yeah, bros slumber party.” Lance laughs.

“Alright.” Keith agrees.

 

Keith helps Hunk and Lance prepare their sleeping bags on his floor. He gives them pillows and extra blankets, as well as a lamp. Lance looks around the room and notices how tidy it is. His room is always such a disaster that he thought it was a teenage boy thing. Either Keith is an outlier or he owes his mom an apology. There are a few trophies on Keith’s dresser, and there is a vintage Bruce Lee poster on his wall. Lance smiles at the couple of plastic UFO’s and X-files DVDs on Keith’s bookshelves. He pokes one of the flying saucers and it topples to the ground.

“Shit, sorry! Sorry!” Lance squeaks.

“God, Lance. Can’t take you anywhere.” Hunk steals one of Lance’s pillows.

“You’re fine.” Keith picks up the figure and places it back in its spot. “Happens all the time.” He says quietly. He smiles at Lance, who just smiles back. He casts his eyes down to Keith’s arms and chest, then abruptly yanks them back up.

 

“Hey nerds,” Pidge pokes her head in. “We’re gonna watch _The Princess Bride_ before bed. You in?”

There’s a murmur of agreement and all the boys shuffle back out to the living room.

 

…

 

Keith sits between Matt and Lance, which might be a mistake. The movie has only reached the part where the dread pirate Roberts is engaged in a battle of wits with Vizzini when he feels his eyes get heavy. His breathing slows and he slumps left onto Lance’s shoulder. He abruptly wakes up when he makes contact.

“Sorry,” He whispers.

“It’s ok.” Lance quietly chuckles. “I’ll talk to you to keep you awake.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No, I’m hilarious, you’ll love it.” Lance winks. Keith supposes he wouldn’t mind Lance whispering in his ear some more.

 

“You know the older I get,” Lance murmurs in his ear a few minutes later. “The more I realise that Buttercup is a little shit.”

Keith laughs and has to agree. Lance laughs at the TV extra loudly when Buttercup throws herself down a hill after her lover.

 

“What is it about this movie…” Lance whispers to him again when the characters enter the fire swamp. “That makes it so timeless? Like look at it. It looks like shit. They’re walking on carpet right now. That’s a dwarf in a rat suit… so why is it so good?” He ponders. Keith smiles and shrugs.

 

“The true love is the friends they made along the way.” Lance sings in his ear. Keith loudly snorts with laughter.

 

Keith is barely paying attention to the movie anymore. He finds himself just waiting for Lance’s next comment. Whether it’s some genuine reaction to the film, or some stupid Vine reference.

“Hi, welcome to Chili’s” He murmurs under his breath when the characters storm the castle and Keith almost loses it.

 

The movie hits its climax, but Keith is looking at the boy next to him. How he eagerly sits forward in his seat, even though he knows exactly what’s going to happen. There’s a bright smile on his face, and his hands are balled…

 

His hands…

 

Keith stares at Lance’s left hand and the world stops. The movie fades and the other’s reactions are silenced. At this moment there’s just Keith, his thundering heartbeat… and the two little love hearts on Lance’s hand. One red… and one blue.

 

Keith stops breathing. He’s screaming at himself that’s it’s just a coincidence. It _has_ to be, because there are 7 billion people on this planet and his soul mate can not possibly be on this couch next to him. Keith tries to look away, but he can’t deny how familiar they are. He can’t pretend like that’s a common drawing to find on teenage boys’ hands.

 

With trembling fingers and shallow breaths, Keith reaches into his back pocket. He has to be certain. He has to know. Is the universe miraculous or just cruel? He pulls out his red pen.

 

_Lance?_ He writes on his hand.

 

He looks over at the boy’s hand next to him and loudly gasps… because there… is his handwriting looking back at him.

 

His gasp must have been louder than he thought, because Lance’s attention is back on him.

“What?” He follows Keith’s gaze to his hand.

“Oh shit, did I get a mess…?”

 

Now it’s Lance’s turn to freeze. Because on his hand, in his soul mate’s handwriting… is his own name. He stares at it with a confusion he hasn’t felt since the first time he woke up with graffiti on his arm.

 

“I don’t understand.” He whispers. “Why-?”

He looks up to ask Keith, but his jaw drops when he finds the other boy staring back at him. Silent tears pour down his cheeks.

 

Keith moves his left hand from behind his back. His holds it up in clear view. Where Lance’s name is written plain as day, and two little hearts dance on his thumb. Lance’s eyes widen and his breathing stops. He hasn’t noticed that Matt has stopped the movie and the others are looking now.

 

Lance jerks his arm around until he sees the burn on his elbow from Pidge’s marshmallow. It’s a large red mark, and might blister in the morning. He snatches Keith’s arm and pulls him close.

 

Keith has the same mark on his elbow.

 

Lance looks into Keith’s face just a breath away. He looks at his fine features, his dark, long hair, and listens to him breathe.

 

“Babe?” He whispers.

 

Keith shatters. He falls forward and sobs loudly. Matt and the others jump back. Shiro starts to scurry forward, but Hunk holds him back.

 

Lance rushes to scoop Keith into his arms. He presses him against his chest and lets the other boy heave and snot into his neck. He grips on to the back of Keith’s neck so tightly that he’s worried he’ll leave bruises. Keith continues to wail right next to his ear.

 

“I don’t… know why… I’m crying…?” He manages to get out, but it sounds painful and raspy. Lance chuckles and squeezes him tighter.

“It’s ok. It’s ok. I’ve got you.” He closes his eyes and buries his face in Keith’s neck. He breathes the scent of him in. Feels the warmth and the weight of the boy against him.

“I can’t believe I’m touching you.” He whispers and he feels Keith sob a little harder.

 

“Uhhhhhh,” Pidge stares dumbfounded. Matt scoops her up and darts out of the room mumbling “Leaving, leaving, leavingleavingleaving” the whole time. Hunk and Shiro sprint after him. Keith and Lance know they’re truly alone when they hear a bedroom door shut.

 

Keith’s sobs eventually quiet into sniffles. Lance gives him one more squeeze before he starts to separate. His eyes are watering now. With some space between them, Lance seizes the opportunity to fully take in the boy in front of him.

“You’re so fucking pretty, holy shit.” Lance sniffs and wipes his eyes. “I can’t believe it. I’m so happy it’s you.” He laughs. Keith wipes his nose on his sleeve and smiles.

“I really like your hair. Do you mind if I…?” Lance wraps his hands around the back of Keith’s neck.

“No, no, go ahead.” Keith breathes deeply. He’s trying to get a grip after his sudden outburst, but Lance’s touch is not making it easy.

 

Lance tugs out his ponytail and lets the hair spill around his shoulders. He begins to card his fingers through the soft locks.

“Holy shit, you’re so pretty.” He whispers. “Sorry, I keep saying that. I know I made fun of your hair, but I love it. It really suits you.”

Lance twirls a strand in his fingers and beams.

“You’re so hot it made me angry when you walked in.” Keith states. Lance blinks at him before he bursts into laughter. He throws himself onto Keith and the two almost fall back onto the couch laughing. Keith manages to hold them up. Lance turns his head to speak into his ear.

 

“My name is Lance and I’m your soul mate.” And Keith feels him smile against his skin.

“I’m Keith.” He whispers.

 

The two hold each other on the couch for some time.

 

…

 

“Sooooo, how long do we have to be in here?” Pidge looks at the others currently hiding in Shiro’s bedroom. Hunk has his ear pressed to the door in an attempt to hear what’s still happening in the living room. Shiro lies back on his bed, whilst Matt fidgets next to him.

 

The door clicks and Hunk frantically crawls back. He acts casual when the door opens and Keith is standing there. His eyes are still red, but at least his voice no longer sounds hoarse. Lance stands just behind him.

 

“Hey,” He starts. “Uh, I’m fine, sorry about… all that.” He waves towards the living room.

“But I’m really exhausted, so I think I just want to go to bed now.”

The others nod and respectfully move to their spots for the night.

 

Hunk follows Lance and Keith to Keith’s room, but doesn’t hesitate to lift his sleeping bag into his arms. He makes pointed eye contact with Lance as he shakes his head and walks back towards the living room. Lance chuckles at his friend’s clear discomfort.

 

Keith takes off his pants and pulls on a pair of pyjama bottoms. He tries to avert his gaze as Lance slips off his tank top and peels off his jeans. Keith is not very successful. He slides into his bed, and Lance begins to enter his sleeping bag. Keith starts.

 

“Hey Lance,” His voice is soft in the quiet room. Lance looks up.

“Yeah?”

“Before… when you…” Keith nervously tucks a stray hair behind his ear.

“When you said… that you had a b-boyfriend…”

“Oh!” Lance sits upright. “Oh I was talking about you!” He beams. Keith grins back. He opens up his blankets and flicks his head.

“Then get your ass in here.”

 

Lance doesn’t have to be told twice. Both boys giggle as Lance practically dives in. His cold hands rest on Keith’s hips and their legs automatically tangle together.

“Hang on, I have to see if my drawings of you were right.” Lance lifts up the blanket to peek underneath them. Keith fidgets under his gaze.

“They were absolutely not!”

“Oh yes I was! Look at these abs!” Lance’s hand splays over Keith’s stomach. “I knew you’d be ripped.” Lance smirks.

 

Keith takes Lance’s hand off of his stomach and knots their fingers together. He wiggles closer until their noses are touching.

“You sure I’m not a disappointment?”

“Babe, of course not. I can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“I’d like it better if your lips were _on_ me” He smirks. Lance splutters.

“So demanding!” He gasps, but then he’s leaning close and trying not to smile too wide.

 

Keith’s lips are impossibly soft. Their first kiss is short and innocent. Lance tenderly lets his fingers graze Keith’s jaw, and Keith smiles into it. They’re both gigging when they pull away. Keith shyly drops his gaze out of embarrassment from how much he’s smiling. Lance lifts his chin and kisses him one more time.

 

“Stay there.” Keith rolls to the side of the bed to grab something off of his windowsill. He rolls back with a red marker in hand. Lance wiggles as Keith draws a heart on his chest.

“Ah it tickles when you do it.” He squirms, but then he stares in awe as the drawing appears on Keith’s chest in real time. He grazes his finger over it and the depth of their connection sinks in. Lance places his whole palm over the drawing and feels Keith’s heartbeat. He kisses him again. A bit more forceful this time.

 

“Let me write something.” Lance takes the marker from Keith’s hand. Keith leans on his elbow and gestures to his body. Lance waggles his eyebrows as he moves in.

 

_Hot as hell_    Lance writes along his abs. Then Lance looks down to see the same phrase on his stomach.

“Aw, thanks Keith. That’s so flattering.”

Keith rolls his eyes.

“Oh my god you _are_ actually like this.” He sighs.

“Excuse me, that is no way to talk to your soul mate who, in your words, is ‘hot as hell’” Lance boops his nose.

“You _do_ talk a lot.” Keith chuckles as he grabs the back of Lance’s neck and pulls him down.

 

Their lips crash together and Lance hums into it. He tangles his fingers in Keith’s hair and opens his mouth. Keith eagerly reciprocates and wastes no time in tasting Lance’s tongue. He grabs a hold of Lance’s hips and pulls them flush together. Lance squeaks, then sighs into his mouth. They pull apart, but not enough that they can still taste the other’s breath. They both smell like chocolate and campfire smoke.

“Hey,” Keith pants. He trails a hand down Lance’s face. Lance closes his eyes and leans into it.

“I don’t want to do anything tonight. I just really need to be close to you. Is that ok?” He asks honestly. Lance turns and kisses his palm.

“Of course.” He beams. “I’m not really … experienced… so I’d probably die if we went further than making out.” He hides his face in a pillow. Keith finds it adorable and kisses his ear to coax him out.

“I won’t push you.”

“Thanks.” Lance nuzzles into his chest.

“But I am going to kiss you stupid.”

“Oh I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

 

Lance giggles as Keith swings his leg up and straddles him.

“Take a big breath, because I’m not coming up for a while.” Keith teases.

“Impossible,” Lance scoffs. Keith raises an eyebrow.

“Because every time I look at you, you take my breath away.” He beams.

Keith flushes down to his collarbones.

“Oooooohmy god. You are the worst.” And true to his promise he falls down and kisses Lance until he is gasping. He runs his tongue along Lance’s as far back as he can reach, so he’s practically devouring him. Lance whines when Keith shifts his hips and greedily nibbles his bottom lip. Keith gives his ear a quick bite and it makes him squeak. Keith laughs evilly.

 

“Don’t make fun of me.” Lance pants.

“I’m not.” And Keith, looking down with his dark hair all tousled around his face, and his lips swollen to a pretty pink, knocks the wind out of Lance. The boy on top of him stretches so his abs stretch and flex, and his hips wiggle on Lance’s groin.

 

The younger boy groans and covers his face with his hands.

“Sorry.” He mumbles. Keith chuckles and grabs his wrists. He pulls his hands away.

“What for?” He smiles. It’s too much.

“For being hard.” Lance pouts. “I’m sorry, you’re just super pretty and-“

“Lance,” Keith sighs. He grabs one of Lance’s hands and pulls it against his equally hard crotch. Lance gasps at the heat of it.

“You’re not the only one that’s reacting. I’d be insulted if you _weren’t_ feeling anything.” Keith leans down once more and presses their chests together. He lazily, but deeply kisses Lance.

 

“I can suck you off if you want?” He looks up with fluttering dark lashes. Lance trembles violently underneath his touch. He shakes his head.

“No. I want your mouth to stay up here with me.” And he forces Keith to deeply kiss him again. Keith moans when Lance’s grip gets more daring and he squeezes his ass.

“Lance,” He gasps.

 

Lance takes the opportunity to turn them over so that he is on top of Keith. He hitches Keith’s leg over his hip, and lets his hand wander down to explore Keith’s thigh and ass. Keith wraps his arms around Lance’s neck and pulls him closer in approval. When Lance’s lungs are burning he pulls away with a pop of his lips. His chest is heaving and he has to restrain himself from grinding against his soul mate’s soft thighs.

 

“You’re perfect.” He pants. Keith greedily keens up and tries to capture his lips again.

“Hold on, hold on,” Lance smiles and picks himself up onto his elbows. Keith pouts underneath him and it almost breaks his resolve.

“I need to ask you something, stop looking at me like that.” Lance laughs.

“Better be important.” Keith grins and bites his bottom lip. Lance watches the way it rolls out of his mouth looking wet and glistening. It makes his voice tremble, but he carries on.

“I want you to go on a date with me on Sunday. A proper date, where I call you my boyfriend and take you out to dinner and junk.”

Keith blinks up at him. His cheeks turn a deeper pink and he winds his arms around Lance’s slim waist. He pulls him down until their foreheads are touching.

“I’d like that.” He beams.

“Yeah?”

“Mmmm.”

And Lance closes the remaining inch between them until they’re kissing again. He cups Keith’s jaw and slows their kiss into a sensuous dance that leaves their chests aching.

 

They both promise to actually try and sleep, but it just turns into the big spoon always kissing the little spoon’s neck and whispering sweet nothings into their ear. They manage to finally grab a few winks when Keith drapes himself across Lance’s chest, who holds him close by the waist.

 

They wake up in the morning and both laugh as they instinctively check their bodies for messages.

 

…

 

“Do you have to go?” Keith grabs hold of Lance’s tank top and tugs him into one more kiss.

“Yeah, my mom will worry you know?” Lance whispers and tucks a lock of hair behind Keith’s ear. Keith grabs his hands and kisses along his knuckles.

“You can stay another night. If you want I mean…” Keith drops his hand and starts to wrap his fingers in the belt loops of Lance’s jeans. Lance picks up his chin and kisses him chastely.

“I gotta go home. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.”

“I think we’ve had enough absence.” Keith smirks and he kisses Lance a bit more forcefully. Lance hums and after a moment, opens his mouth to let Keith properly kiss him. He pulls at Keith’s hair and licks into his mouth.

 

“They’ve been doing this for 30 minutes.” Hunk stands in the front doorway and sighs. Pidge taps her foot impatiently.

“You go over there then. I’m not stepping a foot into that disaster zone.” She huffs. Matt looks across the room at Shiro. Shiro throws his hands up and sighs.

 

“I only live 30 minutes away,”

“I know, but now that I’ve got you it’s a lot harder to let you go.”

“I told you I was charming.” Lance smirks. Keith reaches up and tugs on the brim of his cap. He places it on his own head and grins.

“And _I_ said you were arrogant. Guess I was right too.”

“Babe, you wound me.”

“Mmmm, call me that again.” Keith leans up onto his tippy toes and is about to reach heaven once more when a weight pulls him back down to Earth. A hand on his shoulder pushes him back down and pulls him away from Lance’s warm chest.

 

“Alright, Keith. I think you’ve kept your boyfriend enough. You’ll see him tomorrow.” Shiro tries to keep his voice level and soothing. Keith huffs and crosses his arms. He’s clearly not impressed.

 

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow. And I’ll message as soon as I can.” Lance leans forward for once last kiss. Shiro clears his throat.

Lance steps back and nervously rubs his arm. He doesn’t meet Shiro’s gaze.

“Uh, Shiro! Thanks for uh inviting me over. It was lovely meeting you and I had a really good time.”

“Good time? Is that Keith’s nickname?” Pidge snorts. Matt flicks her ear. Shiro rolls his eyes.

“It was great meeting you, Lance.” Shiro steps forward and shakes his hand. “Both as _Lance_ and as the boy who has made my brother so happy these past few months.” He smiles. Lance giggles and scuffs his foot on the ground.

“Well Keith makes me really happy, so I should really thank you for bringing us together.”

“I think we’re even.”

 

Lance blows kisses as Pidge drags him out the door. Keith wears a shy smile and pretends to catch one.

 

…

 

_See you tomorrow Keithy babe <3 I miss you already. _

Keith laughs at the message on his arm that appears almost immediately. He runs towards his art supplies and gets to work on a new drawing. His old drawings of Lance actually hadn’t been too far off, but now he has the means to make something more accurate. He sketches quickly on his inner forearm, then starts to draw his best Lance. Complete with cute ears that slightly stick out, his upturned nose and dazzling smile.

 

He draws a frame of hearts around it and captions it:

 

_Perfect boy <3_

_Ok you are absolutely doing that on paper and giving it to me because that is phenomenal. Honestly babe, how did I get so lucky?_

Keith truly feels like the lucky one. He lazily smiles and draws a fresh hangman board. It takes Lance a while, but he eventually gets it.

 

_You’re wonderful?_

 

Keith rests his head on the dining room table and sighs. Why can’t it be tomorrow yet?

 

Shiro walks over and plonks his head on top of Keith’s. He sighs deeply.

“I told you the play date was a good idea.”

 

And Keith groans, because he knows this statement is bound to make it into Shiro’s best man speech.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUUUUUUGGGHHHHH I hope you guys liked that! This was my first long form fic in so long and I really had such a great time. I'm hoping I can do more in the future!
> 
> As usual I'm irrevocably-delicious on tumblr if you wanna hit me up.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hope you're having fun! Next chapter won't take long and after Keith receiving so many unwanted marks, we're gonna start the next part off with Lance being very concerned and confused.
> 
> Also shameless flirting.


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